


The Devoted

by shadowsong26



Series: Devoted!verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Padme and Obi-Wan start this as an established couple, Referenced/Backstory Slavery, Satine and Bail also make a couple brief/cameo appearances, after some good old fashioned pining, also i feel i should mention, and we end up with the OT3, as a heads up/just so you know/etc., but for the most part it's just the trio and Ahsoka, referenced/backstory genocide, that there's some pretty frank talk about potentially unhealthy relationship dynamics, which is why the others aren't tagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 35,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: In another galaxy, this would be the year the Clone Wars began. In this one, it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the fall of the Republic. Obi-Wan Kenobi and his partner, former Senator Padme Amidala, are fugitives and--when the opportunity arises--rebels deep in the Outer Rim, when a chance encounter with an Inquisitor brings Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano into their lives…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://obianidalasuggestion.tumblr.com/post/176029655820/au-where-the-empire-is-established-a-lot-earlier) prompt from obianidalasuggestion on tumblr.
> 
> Many thanks to @sweven for the super awesome art, and to @kj_feybarn for being an amazing beta, and to my ever-patient roommates for serving as sounding boards.

It had been a quiet week, overall, which Padme was grateful for. She and Obi-Wan had had few enough of those, in the three years they’d been together.

Or, in all honesty, even  _ before _ that--her life before leaving Coruscant hadn’t exactly been boring, and Obi-Wan had been all over the Outer Rim on his own until she’d joined him.

Still, it was nice when they got the chance. Especially after the near-miss with the Inquisitor in the Ivriid system.

_ That _ was a trip she wasn’t going to forget in a hurry, as much as she wished she could. The contact they’d been there to meet--one of Bail’s people--had already been dead when they’d arrived, and she and Obi-Wan had barely escaped themselves. The Inquisitor hadn’t been there for  _ them, _ at least, or they might not have been so lucky. As it was, she’d managed to take Padme hostage to try and blackmail Obi-Wan into turning himself in.

And if that had happened much earlier in their partnership…

But she and Obi-Wan had been together long enough that, while they didn’t exactly have a  _ plan _ for that kind of thing, they’d trusted each other enough to improvise.

It helped, of course, that the Inquisitor had realized Padme was not Force-sensitive and therefore underestimated her, failing to search her properly and leaving Padme with the means to pick the lock on her binders and use the cuffs to bash the Inquisitor over the head, distracting her  _ just _ long enough for Obi-Wan to take her out.

In the end, they’d been lucky--they’d come out of it with nothing more than a dislocated shoulder and another set of bad memories, but it had still been...hard.

This week, though, had been simple and straightforward missions, mostly smuggling low-risk supplies back and forth to some of their Outer Rim contacts. Probably, when they’d reported in to Bail, he’d realized they needed a little bit of a break and sent them appropriate intel. He was good at that, at keeping track of those kind of details and monitoring his agents’ morale. A series of wins had been  _ exactly _ what she and Obi-Wan had needed.

They’d just finished their latest run, dropping off a load of purifier tablets--the reservoirs on Gaerilon could be chancy during the local dry season, which would start sometime in the next month--and were stocking up on a few basics themselves, while they had the chance, between missions.

“You seem pensive,” Obi-Wan said, coming up the ramp with one last crate--emergency rations, it looked like; good, that covered everything except medical supplies, and they’d learned the hard way to be picky about their suppliers. This close to Hutt space, their faces weren’t  _ quite _ as notorious as they were on other worlds, but they still couldn’t afford to openly buy anything tracked or controlled.

“Not really,” she said, taking a few quick steps down the ramp to help him haul it up. “Just thinking, how quiet it’s been lately.”

“Mm, true,” he said, smiling at her and brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes--he would probably cut it soon; it was just a fraction shorter than the length he got annoyed at.

She smiled back and shoved the crate into place before wrapping her arms around his waist. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s been nice, spending time with you without  _ actively _ fleeing from danger.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, pausing to kiss her briefly. “You are so lovely by when illuminated by blaster fire.”

She laughed, and shoved him lightly. “And you are poetry in motion, my love. Still.”

“Yes,” he said, and stole another kiss. “It  _ has _ been nice,” he added, a little more seriously. “Not just for us, but because when we’re running around like we were before…”

“Missions like this tend to slip through the cracks?”

“Mmhmm.”

They had argued about that, once upon a time--about whether it was more important to maintain focus on freedom from the Empire, and what people needed on a long-term,  _ galactic _ scale, as opposed to helping people with short-term crises or more basic needs of the moment. They’d met in the middle, somewhere along the line, but having small-scale missions like this one helped remind them of that balance.

And, to an extent, of what they were fighting  _ for. _

She sighed, and leaned her head against his chest. “I’m pretty sure it won’t last much longer,” she said.

“Probably not,” he agreed. “And I’ll miss it, but at the same time…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she said. “I think, though, that we can probably wait a  _ few _ more hours before we send word we’re available.”

“Oh, really?” he said, arching one eyebrow.

“Yes,” she said, giving him her sweetest, most innocent smile. “That is, if you can think of a way to spend the time…”

He laughed. “Well, one or two things, perhaps,” he said.

“Such as?” she asked.

“Such as--”

Obi-Wan paused, his head tilting just slightly; his face gone still and--not unfocused, but not quite focused on  _ here, _ either.

She  _ knew _ that look.

“...what is it?” Padme asked, letting him go and automatically reaching for her sidearm.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “...I’ll be back.”

“Should I come?” she asked.

He blinked, then shook his head.

Which probably meant that he was picking up on something she couldn’t really help with. And that was a very,  _ very _ small category.

She took a breath.  _ He’ll be fine. He knows what he’s doing. _ And he did; if this were anyone else, she might be worried that he was overcompensating for what had nearly happened on Ivriid, but this was  _ Obi-Wan. _ She trusted him to know when he would need her and when it was better for her to stay behind.  _ Especially _ when it was something like this.

“Do you want the--”

“No, I don’t think there’s time.”

“All right,” she said. “But, Obi-Wan--” She put a hand on his arm.

He pulled her hand off and kissed it softly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

She nodded. “Comm if things change, and you need backup. I  _ mean _ it.”

“I will.” He kissed her one last time, this time properly, then slipped out of the ship and ran back into town.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected to find, as he tentatively followed that little hint of  _ something is happening _ tingling at the base of his skull; tracking its ebb and flow; trying to find his way to its source. It was conflict, perhaps--no, yes, it was definitely conflict, but it wasn’t a  _ threat, _ precisely. Or...not to him and Padme, in any case.

He was about halfway there when he paused, recognizing that particular oil-slick trace along the edges of the confrontation.

_ Oh, no. _

He didn’t think this was  _ his _ Inquisitor--the one he’d tangled with several times in the past five years; he wasn’t  _ entirely _ certain she’d been dead when she’d hit the bottom of that mine shaft, and if she had survived, she may or may not have been actively tracking him at this point.

But this didn’t feel like her. And it didn’t feel like...it wasn’t as overwhelming as the Sith Lord he had narrowly avoided some time ago. More good news.

But it was definitely  _ an _ Inquisitor, and a powerful one.

And fluttering alongside it, spiky with fear, was a much, much  _ brighter _ presence.

For a moment, he wished he  _ had _ retrieved the box under his and Padme’s bed, but the conflict, as he’d initially thought, was too urgent. Immediate. There wasn’t time. He would simply have to make do with his sidearm and whatever improvised weapons he could find when he got there.

He had made a promise to Padme, that he would be careful. And he would keep that as best he could.

But he had made another promise, twenty-five years ago, before getting into a speeder driven by a whey-faced Bail Organa, and  _ that _ promise meant he couldn’t ignore this child. Whoever they were.

_ Old enough to process what’s happening, I think. _ He picked up his pace and narrowed his focus, trying to figure out the best approach and how to rescue the Inquisitor’s target without getting said child, himself, or any bystanders killed--or providing a trail back to Padme.  _ Not an infant, at least. That’s--something, anyway. _

He made it to the edge of what passed for the small town’s market square; there was a building with a fire-escape ladder built into one wall. He climbed it as quickly and quietly as he could to get a better view of the scene down below.

The Inquisitor’s target was a somewhat scrawny Togruta girl, a young adolescent. Her lekku were just barely touching her shoulders, and her montrals were mere nubs on the top of her head.

_ Twelve or thirteen, maybe? _ he guessed. He wasn’t overly familiar with her species, but that seemed about right.

Not that it particularly mattered. As he’d thought, she was old enough to possibly assist him in her own escape--or to be paranoid and lash out at him, thinking he was another threat.

The Inquisitor himself was a Quarren, tentacles twitching and a deactivated lightsaber held in his left hand.

Obi-Wan paused for a split second, considering the best way to handle it. Closing the distance to intervene directly would be--unwise. The Quarren had more training than he did,  _ and _ a hostage; one whom Obi-Wan didn’t  _ know _ the way he knew Padme, and thus couldn’t predict or leave to handle herself.

On the other hand, Obi-Wan didn’t have a rifle with him, only his usual sidearm. However, he  _ could _ make the shot, especially with the Inquisitor’s focus entirely on his target. He just needed to wait until he had a clear angle; it shouldn’t be long now, the way the girl was struggling and they kept shifting around.

“Let me  _ go!” _ she said, fighting against the Inquisitor’s iron grip.

“You have a purpose now, little girl,” he said. “In serving th--”

Something  _ slammed _ into the Inquisitor’s side, knocking him off balance and causing him to lose his grip on the girl.

Obi-Wan blinked, and looked closer--

That something rolled to a stop, coming up in a crouch facing the Inquisitor. A young man, Human, lean and wiry and probably a few years younger than Padme, who had, apparently,  _ physically tackled  _ the Inquisitor to one side, armed with--

_ Oh, stars above. _

Obi-Wan had thought  _ he _ was ill-equipped for this confrontation, but this newcomer was armed only with a single, short metal blade, about the size of his palm-- _ dead _ metal, not even a vibroblade.

“She said,” he said, face hard and set, “to  _ let her go.” _

The Inquisitor got to his feet, snarling. “Mind your own business, boy. You are interfering with something  _ far _ beyond--”

The young man tackled him again, lashing out with the knife. His technique was rough, and vicious, and  _ dirty, _ but Obi-Wan couldn’t say it was ineffective. He slashed at anything and everything he could--tentacles, limbs, vital organs in the Quarren’s abdomen; and even hit once or twice; Obi-Wan saw a stain begin to spread on the Quarren’s sleeve.

And  _ still,  _ Obi-Wan had no clear shot; every time he thought he had one the boy moved  _ right into his sights-- _

A familiar  _ snap-hiss _ lit the air, as the Quarren ignited his lightsaber, stabbing the Human through the side.

“Anakin!” the girl yelled.

_ Damn it! _ Obi-Wan started to stand, ready to jump off the edge of the roof and engage the Inquisitor directly. He didn’t have any short-range weapons with him, not even his own weighted practice blade, but there was a stray piece of piping that was nearly the same length and heft. It wouldn’t hold up against a lightsaber, of course, but he had the element of surprise and a solid hit would at least slow the Inquisitor down.

No sooner had he picked up the pipe than the Quarren flung the young man into the building with the Force, hard enough that Obi-Wan could hear the stone crack beneath him.

He ignored it, for the moment, because  _ now _ was his chance--

But before Obi-Wan could seize the initiative, the air was split by two rapid blaster shots.

The Quarren stayed upright for a second, looking almost confused, with two smoking holes, one in his chest and one in his forehead, marking where the bolts had connected.

And then he crumpled, revealing the girl standing behind him, her two small pistols still pointed at where he’d been for another second.

She dropped her guard and darted towards the building, out of Obi-Wan’s view.

“Anakin?” she said. “Anakin, Ani, come on, Skyguy--” followed by a few words of a Huttese dialect Obi-Wan half understood, something along the lines of “wake up, be okay, please…”

Obi-Wan let go of the pipe and put his pistol back in its holster--he could draw it quickly enough if any other threats emerged, but he had a feeling that empty hands would serve him better now the Inquisitor was dead--and dropped to the ground, taking care to land at a bit of a distance from the girl and her friend.

This turned out to be a wise decision; as soon as he hit the ground, she spun around, standing protectively over the unconscious young man, her guns trained firmly on Obi-Wan. She was crying, a little, but her hands were steady and she  _ snarled. _

He held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. Either of you.”

“Get back,” she snapped.

“I can help,” he said. “I want to help.”

She fired a shot over his head; he heard it connect with the building behind him. “I said get  _ back.” _

He stopped where he was, keeping his hands visible and steady. “I want to help,” he repeated. “The Inquisitor--I’m not working with him. Rather the opposite. I have a ship, I have supplies. I can help you and your friend.”

She stared at him, warily, letting one of her guns drop but continuing to cover him with the other.

Encouraged, Obi-Wan took a tentative, slow step forward. When she didn’t raise her second blaster again, he took another.

“Wait,” she said. “If I...if I let you help...what…” She glanced over at her companion--Anakin, that’s what she’d called him. “Where will you take us?”

“Just to my ship,” he said. “It’s on the edge of town. My partner and I have supplies there, we can treat your friend’s injuries. From there, it’s up to you two to decide.”

The girl’s face closed off a little again, wary. “Right,” she said. Another glance at Anakin--her pistol didn’t waver an inch. “Your partner?”

“Yes,” he said. “She won’t hurt you either, I promise.”

“...okay,” she said, finally taking her pistol off him. “Okay, we’ll go with you. If you can help him.”

“We’ll do everything we can,” Obi-Wan said. “Here, I can carry him, if you’ll let me?”

She hesitated another breath, then nodded and stepped aside to give him room to approach.

Obi-Wan smiled briefly at her, then stepped past her, keeping his hands visible, to check on the young man.

The wound on his side--wasn’t as bad as Obi-Wan had initially feared. Serious, yes, but it probably hadn’t punctured his kidney or any other vital organs. Too far to the side, almost more a deep slash than a stab wound. More worrying was the potential damage from the impact with the wall. It looked like his neck was intact, at least, and his spine as well, but broken ribs were probable, and his continued unconsciousness was worrying.

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wished he could do more,  _ detect _ more, but…

Well.

When no internal alarm bells rang, he knelt carefully and slid an arm under the young man’s shoulders, and the other under his knees, and stood up. The young man moaned faintly, but didn’t stir.

“Follow me,” Obi-Wan said. “And keep those pistols ready.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot,” she muttered.

“I didn’t say you were,” he said, then started off down the alley, keeping his senses alert for trouble. “I’m Obi-Wan, by the way,” he offered.

“...Ahsoka,” she said, after a minute. “And he’s Anakin.”

“Well,” he said, “while I could wish for better circumstances, it’s lovely to meet you, Ahsoka.”

She stared at him for a minute, then rolled her eyes again. “Let’s just...get back to your ship.”

“Very well,” he said.

“...thank you,” she said, without looking at him. “For helping.”

“Of course,” he said; and fell silent for the rest of the walk back out of town.


	3. Chapter 3

Padme was waiting for him in the main hold, again perched on one of the crates. The engines were humming very faintly--she’d set the ship in standby mode, ready for the possibility that whatever trouble he’d sensed meant they needed to make a quick exit.

He hadn’t had a chance--or a free hand--to comm her and let her know to expect guests, but she had been a professional politician for most of her life. She took in the situation with a glance, covering any surprise she felt with her usual grace.

“Padme, dearest,” Obi-Wan said.

“I’m glad you’re back safe,” she said, then stood up, and offered Ahsoka a brief smile, keeping her hands visible, just as Obi-Wan had done in the street. He couldn’t help but feel a renewed surge of love and admiration for his partner’s ability to so quickly read a situation and the people involved, and react appropriately. “The medbay’s this way. It’s not very big--or very organized, I’m afraid. But I can show you where to find things, or give you a hand, if you like.”

Ahsoka blinked, and eyed her a little dubiously. “I can handle it,” she said. “If you’ll just show me stuff. Anakin and I patch each other up all the time.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Obi-Wan stepped past her, carrying Anakin the rest of the way into the ship and setting him on the medbay’s single bunk. It was just barely long enough for him.

He hadn’t stirred.

Padme grabbed the scanner from its corner and wheeled it over. “Bandages are in the third cabinet from the right,” she told Ahsoka. “Obi-Wan, I think we have some painkillers left, he’ll probably want them when he wakes up. They’re in our room.”

Obi-Wan nodded and stepped out; by the time he returned with the meds, Padme was packing the scanner away and Ahsoka was hard at work with the bandages and some disinfectant Padme had dug up. They were, unfortunately, out of bacta--Obi-Wan made a mental note to run down their more reliable black market contacts again; the last time, no one had had any, but that had been two weeks ago. He might have more luck now.

“We’ll be in the cockpit if you need anything, Ahsoka, all right?” Padme said.

“Okay,” she said, then hesitated, her hands going still for a minute. “Um...thanks. I don’t...we don’t have money or anything for this stuff, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Padme assured her.

“Mm,” Ahsoka said, noncommitally, then returned to her task.

Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Padme, then shrugged.

“All right,” Padme said. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” She took Obi-Wan’s hand and pulled him out of the room, leaving the door open.

Probably wise, to leave that particular decision in Ahsoka’s hands.

She threaded her fingers through his, and they made their way to the cockpit in silence.

That door, she  _ did _ shut, then let go of his hand to hug him close.

He wrapped his arms around her in turn, and just held her, letting the post-conflict adrenaline crash hit him at last and basking, however briefly, in that sense of relative safety. “How is he?” he asked, after a moment.

“Not great,” she said. “Four broken ribs, and a moderate concussion. I don’t think he should leave for a few days, at the very least.”

About what he’d expected. He sighed faintly, and rested his head against hers.

“What  _ happened?” _ she asked, without pulling away. “The...the burn on his side...it means what I think it does, doesn’t it.”

“Inquisitor,” he said, grimly, by way of answer.

He heard her soft, sharp intake of breath, and squeezed briefly, before letting her go and guiding her to the copilot’s chair, taking the other seat for himself. “It’s all right. The Inquisitor was no one we knew. He’s dead now, and he never saw me.”

She frowned. “So, he was after one of them?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “Ahsoka.” He gave her a brief summary of the fight he’d witnessed.

Padme leaned back in her chair. “That’s...impressive.”

He nodded. “I think...I’d like to help her. I don’t know how much I  _ can, _ but…”

“Of course,” she said. “I don’t have a problem with them staying for a while. Assuming they agree.”

Which could be a problem. “Did she say much of anything to you?”

“No,” Padme said. “Well, monosyllables, and their names. She kept one eye on me the whole time, and tried to stay between me and Anakin.”

“That sounds about right,” he said, and sighed. “Still…”

He thought, again, of the box under their bed, and the promise it represented.

“You think she’ll be safer with us?” Padme asked.

“I don’t know if I’d go  _ that _ far,” he said, which provoked a soft, warm laugh. The sound spread over him like a blanket, familiar and comforting, easing his faint anxiety at the prospect. “But if she has a little more knowledge, a little more control, she’ll be better prepared for the next Inquisitor who finds her.”

_ I hope. _

Padme nodded. “Well, like I said. Anakin’s not going to be well enough to travel for a few days anyway. So you have some time to figure out your next step.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Obi-Wan said. “To both of them, really. When Anakin’s conscious.”

“Right,” she said, then paused. “...is  _ he…? _ I mean…”

“I’m not certain,” Obi-Wan admitted.

There had been times, over the past twenty-five years, where he had keenly felt his lack of knowledge and experience, where the fact that he was not  _ even _ half-trained hit home in ways unrelated to the grief that was always there.

This…this was one of them.

True, what Anakin had done stretched the limits of Human capabilities--but the even most ordinary Humans were known to gain a surge of strength and adrenaline when someone they loved was in danger. Particularly when that someone was a child in their care.

On the other hand, some of the way he’d  _ moved _ reminded Obi-Wan vaguely of some of the senior Padawans he’d watched, when he was a child in the Temple. And he remembered early lessons, about how to build on and reinforce mental shields he’d built by instinct, so they could be adjusted on command, as the situation required and as his skills developed. If Anakin’s natural shields were strong enough, that might have kept him safe so far.

So,  _ perhaps  _ Anakin was, but perhaps he wasn’t. Obi-Wan’s own inexperience made him less than willing to trust what he  _ might _ be picking up from him without further, concrete proof.

“I  _ think _ so,” he went on. “But…everything I’ve seen, while convincing, is still very…it’s circumstantial evidence. Not like with Ahsoka. The Inquisitor wouldn’t have targeted her without hard evidence of some kind.”

Padme nodded. “I’m guessing you don’t want to just ask,” she said.

_ That, _ at least, was a much simpler, easier answer to give.

He shook his head. “No. If I’m wrong…I don’t know whether he’d find that a relief or a disappointment. Either way, I’ll have made his life much more complicated for no reason.” To say nothing of the fact that it would probably complicate  _ Ahsoka’s  _ feelings about her own abilities, to hear there was a decent chance they were something she shared with her friend, and then have that potential connection taken away from her. As close as the two of them obviously were...

No. It would be unfair, bordering on cruel, to both of them, to mention it when he might be wrong.

“And if I’m right,” he continued, thinking back again to those half-remember lessons about shielding his own thoughts, “he’s been all right thus far. And as long as he’s still with us, any Inquisitors we meet will likely be more interested in me and Ahsoka, unless he does something to draw attention to himself.”

The look on her face was answer enough.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

She smiled. “I do,” she said. “Is there anything I should keep an eye out for?”

“The usual, I suppose,” he said. “But as an adult, if he’s not trained, unless he’s  _ desperate, _ any signs will probably be…subtle. Quick reflexes, heightened perceptions…”

There  _ were _ more empirical tests, of course--a blood test, and probably others--but knowing they existed didn’t mean Obi-Wan knew how to perform them. And while there were rumors--there were  _ always _ rumors--that some senior Jedi, maybe even a Master or two, had survived, Obi-Wan had never managed to find one. Just like teaching Ahsoka as much as he could--as much as she would  _ let _ him--figuring out Anakin and any ability he might have was entirely up to Obi-Wan’s ill-formed judgment.

He would just have to hope that would be enough, for both of them; and that whatever had kept Anakin safe until now would hold at least a little while longer.

“All right,” Padme said. “If I do see anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, and leaned over to kiss her softly.

She kissed him back, and smiled faintly. “We’ll have to figure out where to set them up. If they agree to stay.”

“One step at a time, dearest,” Obi-Wan said.

“Right,” she said. “One step at a time.”


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin came to in bits and pieces, as if he was fighting his way up through a thick fog. The kind he’d had to navigate through on--what was that planet again? The first place they’d run, after they’d freed themselves. That was ages ago, why did he remember that now?

Not that it really mattered. What mattered was--where was he _now,_ what happened, what was going on?

He _hurt--_ he was aware of _that_ pretty quickly. His head, his ribs, his abdomen, his--okay, pretty much _everywhere._ But it was sort of buffered, because wherever he was lying was warm and soft; a hell of a lot softer than where they’d been sleeping the past few nights, and _definitely_ softer than the paving stones in the square where Ahsoka had--

_Ahsoka!_

_That_ thought cleared out the fog faster than he would’ve thought possible, and he started to sit up, but a familiar hand caught his.

“Easy,” she said; in dialect, rather than Basic, which meant maybe they were somewhere they could be overheard. “It’s okay, I’m here. We’re okay.”

“Ngh,” he replied, intelligently, but he sank back. He squeezed her hand briefly, then finally got his eyes open. She was hovering over him, a little blurred, face pinched slightly with worry, but she brightened up and gave him a huge grin.

“Welcome back,” she said, then held up her free hand. “How many fingers?”

“Seven.”

She huffed a little, and shoved him, very, very gently--way more gently than usual. “Not funny,” she said. “Seriously, Skyguy, how many fingers? You hit your head pretty hard out there…”

He sighed, managing not to flinch as that made his ribs ache even more, and squinted at her hand until it resolved a little better. “Two,” he said, after a beat.

“Good,” she said, squeezing his hand again--not hugging; yeah, okay, she was worried about him, he was gonna have to fix that somehow--then laughed a little. It was a little shaky, like she might’ve been about to burst into tears instead. “Guess I should’ve known better. Thick as your skull is--”

“Hey!” he said, and leaned over to shove her which-- _ow. Okay. Bad move. What…?_

 _“Easy,”_ Ahsoka said again, shoving him back into place. “You got _stabbed.”_

“Yeah, I think I remember that,” Anakin said. He didn’t actually remember a whole lot of the fight, after he’d tackled that… _thing_ …that came after Ahsoka, but he thought he remembered something hot sliding into his side, and then an impact, and then darkness. “What about--what about you, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “He didn’t hurt me. And I shot him in the face, so.”

“Good,” Anakin said, and, ribs and stabbing be damned, he dragged himself all the way up and pulled her into a close, tight hug.

She didn’t hesitate a second before clinging back, clearly trying hard to be gentle and not quite managing it, but that didn’t matter. She was here, she was okay, he could deal with a little pain because hugging his baby sister was more important right now.

After a minute, she let go and shoved him back. Gently.

He laughed a little, which hurt, and she sighed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I mean. Considering.”

“Yeah, considering,” she said. And there was something about the way she slumped a little, staring down at their hands, that--

“…hey,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “I know _that,”_ she insisted, but he could practically feel some of the tension in her shoulders ease.

“Good,” Anakin said. “I mean, I should’ve known you can take care of yourself, I didn’t _have_ to jump in like that.”

She swatted his shoulder, and gave him a little pointed, grateful smile.

They fell quiet then and, feeling a little steadier--even if his head was still pounding and the room was a little blurry on the edges and took a second or two to come into focus--Anakin tried to figure out where they were.

Definitely nowhere he recognized, he knew _that_ right off. Not in the room they’d been renting lately. And--not in any of the _other_ buildings in town Ahsoka would go to if she didn’t think she could get him that far. The walls were metal, and he was pretty sure the bedframe under him was, too, even if the mattress was a lot softer than anything they had. There were a few cabinets lining the walls, and a cloth painting or embroidery hanging in one of the gaps. It might’ve been pretty on another day (or valuable enough to think about stealing; it looked like Quality), but just at that moment the gold-picked thread pattern was twisting in on itself, given the illusion of movement in a way that was a little nauseating.

So he looked away, back at Ahsoka, to ask the _next_ most important question, now that he knew she was okay and the being that had had tried to _take_ her was dead.

“Where are we?”

“Right,” she said. “Um. I had…I had some help.”

_Oh._

“You were _really_ hurt, Ani, and I couldn’t…” She trailed off, twisting his blanket in her hands a little.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. Because, honestly, he would’ve done the same thing, if _she’d_ been hurt. “What did…what did they want?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

Which was--not helping his headache. At _all._ An open-ended bargain, with complete strangers, for--they’d given him and Ahsoka a _lot_ already, just based on the way she kept looking at him and what he remembered of the fight, and…

And…

_If Ahsoka had been hurt, you’d’ve done the same damn thing and you know it._

It wasn’t like Ahsoka didn’t know what she’d risked, either. She _knew_ better. If she’d taken the risk, it was because she _had_ to.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“It’s…” she started, then took a breath and went on. “I think they’re okay. These people. The guy, he came in right after I shot the Quarren back there, and he said…I think they’re okay, that’s all.”

“Gut feeling?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said, feeling a _little_ easier about it. They’d both learned, over the years, to trust their instincts. His tended to be better about situations and places, but Ahsoka’s tended to be better about individual people. Trusting their gut feelings had saved _both_ their lives, more than once--knowing who to approach, where to stay, what to steal...

“Okay,” she echoed. “It’ll be fine.”

“I believe you,” he said, then took a breath and braced himself. “But we should still probably find out what they want.” Because even if Ahsoka’s new friends were okay, he still didn’t like the idea of owing them like this. Not for any longer than absolutely necessary.

“Anakin--”

He sat up. The room spun again, but he swallowed it back. “Give me a hand?” he said.

She stared at him. “If you could see yourself right now…”

“Ahsoka…”

She bit her lip, then nodded and helped him to his feet. “You really shouldn’t be getting up like this,” she said. “I can go tell them you’re awake, they can come talk to you here--”

“I’ll be okay,” he promised her, closing his eyes to wait for the room to settle a little. “And I’d rather go to them. Long’s I _can_ walk, which--look, see?” He took a tentative step away from the bed and did _not_ fall over.

“I guess,” she said, dubiously, then dragged his arm over her shoulder.

The less said about the walk to the--wherever Ahsoka’s new friends were hanging out _(cockpit? Is it a cockpit are we on a ship?),_ the better. The floor kept shifting unpleasantly under his feet, the walls were pulsing in time with the pounding in his head, and he was pretty sure that if he hadn’t had Ahsoka to hold onto, he would’ve fallen down. It took, all at once, _forever_ and no time at all.

_...yep, cockpit._

There were two Humans in the cockpit, a woman about his age or a few years older, and a man, maybe in his thirties or so, with red-brown hair and his feet carelessly up on the dash, staring out the front viewport.

_Still on the planet, I think. That looks like a planet sky. Is it the same planet? I think it’s the same planet. Different region, though. Getting back is gonna be a pain. Hey, he’s kind of--wait what._

Anakin shook his head to clear it, which was not his brightest idea ever.

He must’ve made some kind of sound because the man shifted, turning to look back at them--he had a neat beard; his hair was longish and drifted almost casually, distractingly over his eyes.

The woman, though--the woman did him one better.

She got all the way up from her chair and was next to them in an instant. She was small, only a little bit taller than Ahsoka, with soft brown hair in a knot at the back of her head, soft brown eyes to match, and a narrow scar cutting down along her right cheek.

“Here, sit down,” she said, her hands taking his and she tugged him to the chair she’d just vacated. “You look like you’re about to fall over. Are you all right?”

“Uh--yeah,” he said, as soon as he could switch gears and form the right words in Basic. The room was a _lot_ steadier when he was no longer trying to move, the pretty stranger-- _what_ \--had had the right idea.

“Good,” she said, and smiled at him. And, even slightly blurred with motion, she had a--a very pretty smile.

 _Focus,_ Anakin reminded himself. _Come on…_

“I’m Padme,” she said, squeezing his hand briefly, before letting go. “And this is my partner, Obi-Wan.”

“Uh,” he said. “I’m Anakin?”

“Ahsoka told us,” she said. “...are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, forcing his thoughts into line. “I’m fine. Sorry. Uh. You...thank you. For helping us. Me and Ahsoka.” Probably better to start there, right?

“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan said, from his chair; he had a nice voice, very calming; Anakin sort of hoped he kept talking.

But he didn’t, and the silence stretched between them a little awkward.

“I guess…” Anakin started. “Uh. I guess I just...wanna know what happens now.”

“Now?” Padme said, and she glanced over at Obi-Wan. There was something that flowed between them, just that one look, which--

 _...wait, what? Oh._ Oh. _...oh._

...no. No, Anakin could not think about that right now. Of _course_ the two of them were--she’d even _said_ he was her partner, and--

 _Focus,_ he told himself, shortly. _You owe them. Just focus on that, not on how...how pretty her smile is, or his eyes, or…_

_Focus._

“Well, you’re still hurt,” Padme said, “and of course you’re welcome to stay here while you’re healing.”

Okay, so they were also relatively decent people. Not everyone would’ve offered him shelter like that, unless it was an implied threat to make sure he didn’t run out on the debt.

Which he _never would._ That was one of his and Ahsoka’s rules--they _always_ looked after one another, and they _always_ paid their debts.

But Padme...Padme didn’t sound threatening. And there was nothing in her, or Obi-Wan, that read that way. Anakin’s instincts for other people might not have been quite as good as Ahsoka’s, but they wouldn’t have survived the first year or two after they ran away if Anakin hadn’t gotten pretty good at that himself.

 _So, they’re_ kind, _too. On top of being--stop it._

Of course, the flipside of that was, the longer they sheltered him, the bigger the debt grew.

“I...that’s not what I meant,” he said. He felt Ahsoka’s hand slip into his, helping to ground him in what _really_ mattered. “You helped us. A lot. And we...I fix things,” he said. “I’m a mechanic, I can...fix things. We’ll pay you back, for helping us out, and...and for the supplies. I promise.”

“There’s no debt, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “We helped you because you were hurt, and because we could.”

“Look,” Anakin said, turning to him and ignoring the way the room turned a split second _longer_ before resolving. Because even if the two of them were nicer than most of the beings Anakin and Ahsoka had met over the years, the world _didn’t work like that,_ and the sooner he figured out what Padme and Obi-Wan _wanted_ from him, the better he’d feel.

Not that--okay, he’d only known them for like an hour, maybe, time was being weird, but _Ahsoka_ thought they were okay people, and he trusted _her._ So whatever Padme and Obi-Wan expected from him, it probably wasn’t _too_ awful. They wouldn’t be like the Empire--or, worse, the Hutts. He could at least cling to that.

But they wanted _something._

And working on their ship, or fixing other things that broke for them..it wasn’t enough--nowhere _near_ enough--but it was a _start._ Sure, he could probably pay them back faster with a few clever thefts, once he figured out what they might _want_ stolen, but he didn’t want to wait for an opportunity like that before he even _started._

Assuming there _was_ something they wanted stolen. These were good people, Ahsoka had said so, and they were being _kind._ People like that didn’t usually react well to thieves.

But he had his hands, and his other skills. And he _liked_ fixing things. And, besides, it wasn’t all that often he got a chance to work on a starship like this one. Even if it was slow, even if it kept him and Ahsoka in their debt for longer...it wasn’t a bad way to repay it.

On the other hand--there were some cultures that just didn’t _talk_ about this kind of thing. That considered it rude to bring _up_ the debt, rather than just quietly paying it back. That viewed it as a sign of disrespect or ingratitude.

_Kriff. Should’ve thought of that. Should’ve been more careful._

He liked to think he could blame the concussion for that one, but this wasn’t the first time he’d been a little too blunt and made a dumb mistake like that.

He took a deep breath, and clenched his free hand tight around the arm of Padme’s chair, fighting to keep his voice steady even if his head was still spinning. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that--I’m not...I’m not _ungrateful._ I just...I just...whatever it is, I’ll pay you back, I just need to know _how.”_

“You know,” Padme cut in, “there’s another way to look at this.”

Obi-Wan glanced over at her, and nodded once; there was another one of those _looks_ that passed between the two of them, and Anakin tried very hard not to be bothered by it.

 _You just met these people,_ he reminded himself. _And even if Ahsoka thinks we can trust them--and, even if...even if I’m not really seeing a reason why we shouldn’t--you_ just _met them. Just because they’re both...beautiful, and warm, and_ kind, _and…_

That one, he decided, he probably _could_ blame on the concussion. Once his brain healed, he’d stop--he’d put things back into perspective. Think about Obi-Wan and Padme the way he _should,_ as not-unfriendly people who he owed _everything._

Not as people he’d like to get to know better, maybe.

Just...just as what they were to him. What they would always and forever be to him.

Anakin swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“You and Ahsoka took down an Inquisitor,” she said. “I know you didn’t do it _for_ us, but the fact is that they very much want Obi-Wan dead, or worse. Me, too, maybe, but mostly him. The _least_ we could do was treat your wounds and give you food and shelter while you recovered.”

That didn’t...okay, it didn’t _quite_ balance out to him. But it made him feel better, at least, that he hadn’t accidentally insulted them, and that Padme was _acknowledging_ the debt. It was just a question of figuring out the actual price, and who owed who what.

“I guess,” he said, because he didn’t really want to fight anymore, then the rest of his brain caught up. “Wait, an Inquisitor?”

He’d maybe heard that word whispered, here and there, usually with fear and with stories of babies disappearing.

But Ahsoka wasn’t a baby, and what...okay, Anakin of course understood why the Army or Navy or stormtroopers might try to grab one of them, or even ISB, if he and Ahsoka broke into the wrong place.

But an _Inquisitor?_ An elite Imperial agent whose job was so terrible and so shrouded in secrecy that even the underworld he and Ahsoka lived in didn’t like to talk about it?

Padme looked over to Obi-Wan. “I think I’d better let you explain,” she said, then stepped away. “I’m going to see if I can put together something for everyone to eat, all right?”

That...did not sound like the greatest idea, but answers from Obi-Wan were a little more important than objecting right now.

“All right,” Ahsoka answered for them both, and Padme gave another one of those shining smiles before stepping out and shutting the cockpit door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, after Padme had left them. He had a weird, blank expression on his face, like he was trying to think of exactly what to say. The silence was just starting to get uncomfortable, and Anakin was just about to ask again--but Ahsoka shook her head, and then Obi-Wan let out a breath and finally spoke.

“I suppose I should start with...are the two of you at all familiar with the Force?”

_ What Force? _

Anakin glanced at Ahsoka, who looked just as confused as he did.

“No,” she said, turning back to Obi-Wan.

“The Force is…energy,” he said. “It’s  _ life. _ It spills out of every living being, and binds us all together.” He paused for a moment, and Anakin could almost feel the--the  _ reverence _ bleeding off of him, until it faded into something softer, and almost sad.

“All living beings are connected to the Force,” he continued. “But some have a deeper, more profound link than others. These beings can draw on the Force to…well, any number of things. See the future, move things with their minds, read and, to a very limited extent, manipulate the emotions of other beings.”

“Tugging on the web, in other words,” Anakin said.

“Yes, exactly,” Obi-Wan said, with a faint smile, that faded quickly. “When I was a child, those beings were found and trained by the Jedi Order. So they could control their abilities, and not be controlled by them.”

Anakin may not have heard of the Force, but he  _ had  _ heard stories about the Jedi before. Heroes out of myth, legendary warriors--it had been nice, when he was a kid, to daydream about what a world with Jedi might be like. Not that he ever thought it would matter. It was all so far away from anything he’d ever lived.

Heroes out of myth and legend didn’t really have a place in the world he and Ahsoka knew.

It was still weird, hearing how  _ recently _ they had been something real. Obi-Wan wasn’t all  _ that _ much older than he was, after all.

“I’m guessing that Inquisitors like that Quarren are responsible for finding them now?” Ahsoka asked.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes,” he said. “They serve the Empire. They identify Force-sensitive children and kidnap them, to break them and make them like themselves. Or kill them, if they can’t.”

Anakin hadn’t regretted the concussion or the broken ribs or the still-throbbing hole in his side before, and he  _ definitely  _ didn’t regret them now. He was glad he still had Ahsoka’s hand, and based on how tight she was holding on, she was, too.

“So…so they’ll keep coming after me,” she said.

“I’m afraid so,” Obi-Wan said. “Or, well, I can’t say for certain that the one you met was able to report back to his superiors that he’d found you. But if he found you, it stands to reason that you will be found again.”

And they’d gotten lucky this time. Anakin knew that. Lucky that the Inquisitor hadn’t identified him as a threat; lucky that he’d managed to get a few hits in and give Ahsoka the opening she needed to take her shot; lucky that someone friendly had been able and willing to help with the aftermath…

The problem with luck was, eventually it ran out.

The problem with the good will of strangers was, it always,  _ always _ came with strings attached.

(Even if Obi-Wan and Padme had more good will than most.)

Ahsoka and Anakin knew better than to depend on anything other than themselves.

And, no question about it, they were  _ good _ at what they did. They wouldn’t have survived as long as they had if they weren’t. Wouldn’t have survived their flight from Hutt space  _ or _ their vagabond lives on the fringes of the Empire since.

But were they good  _ enough, _ to stand against something like an Inquisitor on their own?

He squeezed her hand briefly, and she looked up at him. He could see the same logic flicker through her eyes, and she nodded once, decisively.

_ We’ll figure it out somehow. Just like we always do. _

“Can you help her?” Anakin asked. “Help us, so we’ll be ready for the next one?”

Obi-Wan hesitated for half a second. “I was…very young, when the Order fell,” he cautioned. “I am not as…as knowledgeable, or as wise, as I would wish. But I will teach you everything I know. I promise.”

It might not be good enough. But it was better than what they had. And as for the debt…

_ This is how they get you, _ the sensible part of Anakin warned.  _ Do favors that you can  _ never _ repay and then there’s no way out. _

And they owed Obi-Wan and Padme so much  _ already. _

But…

Ahsoka’s gut feelings were better about people than Anakin’s were, but even he couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, despite  _ everything _ he knew about the galaxy and the good will of strangers, it wouldn’t be like that.

And if he was wrong--well, it would be worth it. He would pay  _ any _ price to keep Ahsoka safe.

He glanced down at her again. Her jaw was set in that stubborn line. She was worried, but not afraid. He smiled briefly at her, and she squeezed his hand.

“We’ll stay,” Ahsoka said. “We don’t have…we’ll figure out a way to pay you back. But if you’ll help me, we’ll stay.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan said. “And you…needn’t feel obligated. Especially not about this. This is…” He paused, closed his eyes. A shadow stole across his face, one that resonated with something deep inside Anakin. An unimaginable loss, long, long ago.

“This is  _ my _ obligation,” he finished quietly. “To my Order. To the galaxy. To the Force itself. There is no…there is no debt you need to pay.”

That... _ almost _ made sense to Anakin, at least in  _ theory. _ Or, at least, that helping him repay  _ his _ debt might cancel out any they owed for this.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said. “...when do we start?”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough,” Obi-Wan said. “It’ll give you some time to process things, see if you have any other questions.”

“Right,” she said. “Good. ‘Cause I should probably get Anakin back into bed if we’re done here.”

“Hey!”

Obi-Wan’s face stayed very, very neutral which probably meant he was trying not to laugh. And even if it  _ had _ sort of broken the tension in the room, Anakin  _ still _ wasn’t thrilled.

“Probably a good idea,” Obi-Wan agreed, before Anakin could object any more coherently than that. “Do you need a hand?”

“Nah,” Ahsoka said. “We’ve got this.”

“All right,” he said. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said, then helped Anakin up and, okay, the room  _ had _ started pulsing again, so maybe she had a point.

And maybe he would’ve wanted to say something else, but from that point, all his focus was tied up in staying on his feet as they made the long, woozy trip back to the medbay on the other side of the ship.


	6. Chapter 6

Anakin and Ahsoka, while still feeling somewhat new and out-of-joint, were settling in, and the four of them had decided to spend a little while where they were, parked on the outskirts of the largest city on the planet. From here, they had access to the city’s resources when needed and a certain level of anonymity in crowds, but they were not actually  _ in _ the spaceport itself. Less of a paper trail, for one thing; in addition, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had started on a few basic lessons. True, nothing they were doing in the ship’s hold was likely to draw attention, but better safe than sorry.

Lessons, however, were not really the plan for the day. Anakin was much more mobile after just over a week in their care, fortunately, and had already found a few maintenance projects to work on, with Ahsoka’s assistance. Padme had gone into town to touch base with a contact of hers in the area--which left Obi-Wan in the cockpit, monitoring comms for any further messages from their allies in other parts of the galaxy.

He had done a few meditation exercises of his own, to settle himself. Working with Ahsoka had been--somewhat difficult; bringing up long-buried feelings of inadequacy. That he was too inexperienced, too ill-educated, could never live up to the promise he’d made all those years ago.

She seemed to be grasping the basic concepts well, at least, which was reassuring. And he knew that dwelling on his doubts would do more harm than good; perhaps even feed into a cycle that would make them more true than they actually were.

Perspective, as in so many things, was everything.

From Ahsoka, as they so often did when he wasn’t actively teaching her, Obi-Wan’s thoughts wandered to Anakin.

Who was...well, on the subject of tangled feelings, Anakin was certainly at the heart of several.

And not because--or not  _ entirely _ because--of the question of his Force-sensitivity. Leaving that aside, there was no denying that the young man was attractive; tall and lithe with golden-brown hair and arresting blue eyes.

But there was more to it than that. He was passionate, intense--some of the same traits that had drawn Obi-Wan to Padme years ago. Anakin’s focus was somewhat narrower than Padme’s, but, then again, she had been trained from early on to look at things on a somewhat larger scale, had been responsible for her entire planet, and Anakin’s world had been himself and his sister and their survival for so long.

Still, that fierce devotion was something beautiful in both of them.

And there was something else about the young man; something that seemed to  _ want _ to reach out to them. Perhaps to be a part of something larger, though Obi-Wan didn’t yet know him well enough to be certain whether it was that or just a response to their basic kindness; kindness that, in all probability, had been unfortunately lacking in his life up until now.

There had been moments over the past several days, where Obi-Wan had felt Anakin watching him--or seen him watching Padme--with a kind of wistful longing, before withdrawing into himself or turning his focus back to Ahsoka. And moments where they’d spoken, where Anakin seemed on the verge of reaching out, of sharing some kind of confidence, some deeper piece of himself, but then caught himself and the walls went right back up.

It was...frustrating.

But Obi-Wan was inclined to respect his wishes, and let him reach out at his own pace. As much as he wanted  _ some _ kind of actual relationship with Anakin, whatever form it might take, rather than this sort of awkward coexistence.

_ At least, _ he thought,  _ I don’t have to worry about jealousy adding any further complications to this mess. _ Padme was responding to Anakin just as intensely as he was. They hadn’t  _ discussed _ it yet, but they had been together for quite some time now, and friends for longer, and they  _ knew _ each other. More importantly, they  _ trusted _ one another.

They probably  _ would _ have to discuss it at some point, what their shared attraction to their new friend might mean for them and  _ their _ relationship, but for now…

For now, Anakin seemed unsure of what he wanted from them, and inclined to hold them at a distance. Whatever the young man’s subconscious might want, they would have to respect that.

The comm beeped twice at him, drawing him out of his thoughts, and he activated the usual encryptions before accepting, and relaxed at seeing a familiar symbol resolve above the projector.

“Intercept,” he said. “It’s good to hear from you.”

Intercept, better known to the galaxy as Bail Organa, Senator and, through his marriage to Queen Breha, Viceroy of Alderaan, was, together with Satine Kryze of Mandalore, the backbone of the loosely-networked resistance against the Empire. He was also one of Obi-Wan’s dearest friends, apart from Padme, and one of his oldest, too; they had met the same day the Republic fell.

Bail was one of the few good memories Obi-Wan had of those early days, and he had long relied on the Senator as proof that, even in the darkest of times and places, good and kind people still existed.

“It’s good to hear your voice, too,” came the warm reply. “We got your message--your new friends are settling in all right?”

Obi-Wan was somewhat glad, in that moment, that their holograms used symbols, rather than more traditional projections. Given the tenor of the thoughts Bail had interrupted, he was fairly certain he was blushing.

“It’s…an adjustment,” he admitted. “They’re somewhat slow to trust, and they...may yet go their own way once the young lady is a bit more capable of defending herself. We’ll see how it goes.” He paused for a breath and, even though he knew it was likely futile, he had to ask. “Have you heard of anyone…?”

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Bail said. “I’ll keep an ear out, you know I always do, but…”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, and sighed. “What about you? Is everything all right at home?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Bail said. “Busy, though, there was some flooding in the southern hemisphere. Not as bad as it could have been, fortunately, and it’s mostly over now. It’s just a matter of coordinating the rebuilding.”

“Yes, I think I remember seeing something about that on one of the HoloNet broadcasts,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”

“We all are,” Bail agreed. “And I’m sorry to cut this short, but…”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll talk properly at the usual time.”

“Yes, exactly.” He could  _ hear  _ the smile in his friend’s voice, even without seeing it; even through the scrambler. “But, to business.”

“Yes,” he said. “What do you need?”

“We were lucky enough to obtain a few fragments of code off of an Imperial server,” Bail said. “Including security passcodes. A friend of mine was able to work with those, build us a worm that will be able to expand outward from its initial upload point. Eventually, it should provide access into a number of systems. Covert access, unless the initial upload is detected.”

“I see,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m guessing this has to be uploaded physically?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Bail said. “Into a machine on one of the closed Imperial networks. Any of them will do, to start, at least, but it still involves accessing such a machine. And there’s more bad news.”

“Isn’t there always?”

“The security codes we built into the thing expire at the end of the week,” Bail said, rather than responding to his quip.

Obi-Wan leaned back in the chair, considering. “I’m guessing there’s an access point in my area?”

“There is,” Bail said. “A tax bureau office. Lighter security than most. I know it’s a narrow window, but once the worm is installed…”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll find a way, I promise. Send me the details.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Bail said. “Sending now. Be very careful--if your intrusion is detected…”

“I understand.”

Another buzz from the commlink, and a series of files appeared.

“Received,” he said. “I’ll send word when the job is done.”

“Thank you, Ember,” Bail said, sincerely. “Be swift. And be  _ careful.” _

“Oh, you know me,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “I will. And the same to you, my friend.”

“I always am,” Bail said. “We’ll talk soon.”

“We will.”

“Intercept out.”

As soon as the hologram had fully dissolved, Obi-Wan keyed up the intel Bail had sent, skimming through it quickly. An office building, fortunately on-planet, though not the city they were camped near. All the way in the opposite hemisphere, in fact; but getting there shouldn’t be much of a problem. Even so, the approach was only half the problem, and with the timeframe…

Well, he and Padme had pulled off harder miracles before.

Though they really should get to work on  _ this _ one, if they didn’t want to miss their window.

He picked up his personal comm and tapped a few keys; she answered right away.

“Hello, love,” she said.

He smiled briefly, though he knew she couldn’t see. “Hello, dearest. Are you nearly finished?”

“Just about. Problem?”

“No,” he said. “Mission. Local, but time-sensitive.”

She nodded. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll fill you in when you arrive,” he said.

“Love you,” she said, then cut the call.

He set his commlink aside, within easy reach in case she ran into any trouble and called him back, and resumed scanning the mission specs, trying to find their best way in.


	7. Chapter 7

Padme listened to Obi-Wan’s briefing without saying anything, then fell to studying the building schematic herself, a familiar, thoughtful, somewhat opaque expression on her face.

“I think,” she said, “we’re going to have to fall back on our old standby.”

“Identify the guard on duty, figure out whether they’d rather flirt with you or me, and the other goes upstairs to complete the mission?”

“Yep,” Padme said, and sighed. “I don’t think I see any other options.”

_ I was afraid of that. _

“Nor do I,” he said. Not that their old standby was a  _ problem, _ exactly, except in that they didn’t have much time to research their target, and if they misjudged…

“It’s going to be tight,” she said, as if echoing his thoughts.

“There’s an easier way,” Anakin interrupted from the doorway.

Padme and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance--neither of them had heard him approach, which was...unusual, even in their own nominally safe space--and turned to look at him.

“Sorry?” Obi-Wan said.

“Uh.” Anakin flushed, obviously picking up on the sudden tension, and shifted a little, his hands stealing up into his sleeves. “Small ship, I could hear you through the vents. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Padme said. And, true, it wasn’t as if he’d overheard any  _ actual  _ secrets--even if he’d overheard Obi-Wan’s earlier conversation with Bail, everything had been discussed with appropriate codenames. He shouldn’t have picked up any details someone outside their network shouldn’t know. And, given how they’d met, it probably wasn’t a surprise to him that a lot of their time was spent in active resistance and sabotage missions against the Empire.

Still, the two of them should  _ probably _ be a little more careful how they spoke, now that they had passengers.

He and Padme exchanged another look, then Obi-Wan shrugged and stepped aside to let Anakin get a closer look at the base layout Bail had sent them.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

“Come in from above,” Anakin said, joining them at the table after a split second of further hesitation. “Find a way onto the roof, then scale down the side ‘til you find the floor you want, and bring cutters.” He frowned at the hologram for a second, then went on. “Probably seismic, rather than a plasma torch, since light’s gonna draw more attention than noise if you time it right. The windows in this kind of building don’t usually have sensors on the outside, at least not on this planet, unless they’re banks or have private residences on the top floor. Doesn’t look like this one’s either.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan considered the building again, turning the hologram. “Yes, I can see how that might work, if you’re very confident and you have the right equipment.”

“It’ll make the break-in obvious, though,” Padme pointed out.

“True,” Anakin said. “But the only way to do it subtle, on a job like this, is to con your way in. Like you were thinking, maybe, or there’s other ways to get a foot in the door. But all of them take time if you want to actually do it without getting caught. If you have a month or so to plan you could make it work, but breaking in like this, you could probably pull off in two or three days.”

“So, if we try this,” Obi-Wan said, “we’ll need a cover of another sort. Padme, what other offices are in that building? Preferably on the same floor. Maybe if we rob one of them…”

Anakin nodded. “Yeah, that would do it. And looping the hallway cameras and stuff shouldn’t be a problem, once you get into the building. Most buildings like this, each office has at least limited access to the overall mainframe. From there, you can deal with all of that.”

“You know an awful lot about breaking and entering,” Padme said, passing Obi-Wan the building manifest. “I thought you said you were a mechanic?”

Anakin shrugged. “Mostly,” he said, just evenly enough that he was probably trying not to sound too defensive. “But when we were first on our own, no one would hire me, so we learned how to steal things.”

_ They must have been very young…and probably running away from something very awful. _

It lined up with what he had observed, and from the look on Padme’s face, she was about as surprised as Obi-Wan was.

But she didn’t need to be reminded that saying that out loud, when he was already on the defensive, was probably not the best plan.

“That makes sense,” Padme said. “And I’m certainly grateful for the expert advice,” she added, offering him a smile.

He flushed, and smiled back, very quickly. “Right. Uh. Anyway, that’s probably what I’d do. Send Ahsoka up to the roof, ‘cause she’s lighter and faster and more flexible. Plus, I stick out less when I loiter outside, in case she needs backup. And I’m less...uh...conspicuous as a getaway driver.”

Obi-Wan had a worrying suspicion that he meant that in the sense that he was old enough to be licensed, under most legal systems, rather than any comment about his driving skills in and of themselves.

Not that it particularly mattered in the moment, of course. He resumed scanning the manifest for likely targets, and--

“Here, I think,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to a line on the building directory. “Medical supply company. Reasonably valuable and hard to source, but not high-end pharmaceuticals, so the security should be manageable, given our resources.”

Padme put the company info into their encrypted HoloNet access. Anakin stepped up behind her to look over her shoulder.

“Yeah, that could work,” he said. “There’s a few things on this list that are portable enough and worth it to take to the black market.” He paused. “Or, I guess, you could scatter them to local clinics or something, if you don’t need the money.”

“One or the other,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll see what we end up with, and then decide.”

Anakin nodded and pulled back; one hand was resting, probably subconsciously, on his side.  _ He probably shouldn’t have been bending over like that, _ Obi-Wan thought, with some sympathy, having broken a rib or two himself in the past. Anakin’s head seemed much better, at least, but given the supplies they’d had on hand when they’d picked up Anakin and Ahsoka, there wasn’t much to be done for broken ribs other than painkillers and time.

“Okay. So. Ahsoka and I can do it,” he said. “We haven’t hit a building like this in a while, but we’ve done this kind of thing before.”

Padme shook her head.

“This is what we’re  _ good _ at,” Anakin protested.

“Yes, but you’re still hurt,” she said.

Anakin made a face. “My headache’s been gone for two days, and the ribs aren’t  _ that _ bad,” he insisted, moving his hand to rest on the table instead. As if he’d just realized where it was. “We can do this for you. We  _ should. _ We shouldn’t…we’re  _ here, _ we should contribute.”

“Planning is contributing,” Obi-Wan pointed out, mildly. “And Padme’s right, you  _ are _ hurt.”

“I’m  _ fine,” _ he said. “I can manage, anyway. Besides, we know more about this kind of thing than you do. When was the last time  _ you _ robbed an office building?”

“Also true,” Obi-Wan conceded, then glanced over at Padme. “Perhaps if we asked Ahsoka to help us…”

Anakin blinked, then frowned a little.

“We probably should,” Padme admitted. “You might be able to manage juggling everything at the window, but I’m not sure I could.”

And even with the Force to help him, his own skills in that area were far from guaranteed. They  _ had _ an expert on hand. They might as well use her.

“So, that’s settled, then,” Obi-Wan said. “Assuming she agrees.”

“She will,” Anakin said. “I’m still going to be there, to back her up.”

“Anakin…”

“We stick together,” he said. “We look out for each other.  _ Always. _ I mean, she probably won’t need me, because she’s  _ good _ at this, but I have to be there, just in case.”

Padme looked up at Obi-Wan, clearly unhappy. He didn’t feel much better about it, but--if one of them was there  _ with _ Anakin, probably they could keep him from hurting himself worse. He hoped. Unfortunately, unless they drugged or restrained him--which they  _ would not _ do--or Ahsoka herself put her foot down, Obi-Wan doubted they’d be able to keep Anakin out of things. And even if Ahsoka sided with them, he wasn’t sure it was a guarantee.

She sighed. “All right, fine,” she said. “But Obi-Wan will be out there with you, and you’ll follow his lead, all right?”

“That’s fine,” Anakin said. “Let me get Ahsoka, we can fill in some of the details.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and Anakin slipped out of the room.

“Are you sure about this?” Padme asked.

“No,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Oh, not the plan--I have no doubt that Anakin’s right, and he clearly knows what he’s talking about. But…”

“Expert or not, Ahsoka’s fairly young.”

“And how old were  _ you, _ when you started taking foolish risks for the right reasons?” Obi-Wan pointed out. “That’s not what worries me. Anakin, on the other hand…”

“Yeah,” she said. “You’ll look after him?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll manage. As long as everything goes right, I doubt he’ll be doing much more than cooling his heels. Maybe driving.”

She nodded. “It’s that  _ as long as everything goes right _ part that worries me…”

“Isn’t it always?” he asked, rhetorically.

A faint sigh was her only answer, as she turned back to the building schematics to try and find a way to get Ahsoka up on that roof.


	8. Chapter 8

Ahsoka resisted the urge to bounce a little in her seat, trying to run through one of the focusing exercises Obi-Wan had taught her instead. It was hard, though, with the usual anticipation of a complicated job ahead of her. Plus the fact that she and Anakin hadn’t pulled anything like this in about six months,  _ and _ had other partners on this one,  _ and _ he was just coming off being badly hurt--still  _ way _ more sore than he was letting on, like he thought she couldn’t tell, but he  _ was _ healed enough to be up to his part in this or she wouldn’t have let him.

Oh, well. Once she was actually  _ on _ the roof, her nerves would settle. She knew that from experience.

But she  _ was _ trying to learn everything Obi-Wan had to teach her, so she and Ani wouldn’t get caught off guard the next time an Inquisitor found her. Plus, this was for Padme and Obi-Wan, and she owed it to them to do it  _ right. _

So, deep breaths, trying to sink into the Force around her, let it fill her with calm and light and focus and awareness.

“Getting close,” Anakin said, shifting gears and dropping down a couple lanes of traffic.

“Got it,” she said.

“You have the drive?”

“Yep.”

“Map memorized?”

“You say that like you don’t even know me.”

He grinned a little at her, but it slipped off quickly. “Obi-Wan’s gonna be on the ground with me, in case you need rescue. And Padme has the ship on standby in case we need a  _ bigger _ rescue.”

She nodded; she knew all that, but it helped him to remind her and it was almost always a good idea to go over their backup plans one last time before going in. “I’ll signal if I need it.” She didn’t think she  _ would, _ but better safe than sorry.

“I know you will,” he said, and smiled at her again. “But you know me.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course, he wasn’t ever  _ half _ as careful with his own exit strategy as he was with hers, but she’d gotten used to that. As long as he didn’t start trying to leave her behind or anything stupid like that, she could live with it.

“How close can you get me?” she asked.

“Not as close as I’d like,” he admitted. “Not without getting pulled over and taken out of play. But it’ll be a drop you can handle.”

Because Ani getting arrested was--okay, maybe the third-to-last thing they wanted, after Ahsoka getting caught red-handed or Obi-Wan getting nabbed by an Inquisitor. Still not good.

And if he got pulled over, he  _ would _ get arrested. Obi-Wan and Padme hadn’t had a speeder they could use, so she and Ani had had to steal one earlier that night.

If they’d had more time to plan, they would’ve picked a cleaner way to get her up onto the roof--which was really the hardest part of the whole operation. There were a couple of neighboring buildings that were probably easier to infiltrate. Sure, the office Padme and Obi-Wan wanted her to plant things in was a satellite tax office, but it was still Imperial Government, which meant more secure than just about anything other than a pharma or agricultural or weapons research facility. Most of which worked pretty exclusively on Imperial contracts  _ anyway, _ so it was more or less the same thing.

Anyway, the point was, none of the neighboring offices had research labs in them. Even at their scruffiest, she and Ani could probably plan a way up to one of  _ their _ roofs, and getting across to the target from there was a  _ lot _ easier than a direct approach.

But Padme and Obi-Wan said this was time-sensitive, so getting as close as regular speeder traffic would let them and then jumping down to the roof it was.

And it had to be her making the drop. Leaving aside that she and Ani were the ones with experience--and, of the two of them, she was smaller and lighter and faster  _ and _ not hurt--Togruta were stealth ambush predators, rather than pursuit predators, resulting in what Obi-Wan had called “heightened spatial awareness.” That all meant that Ahsoka was  _ much _ better able to gauge the jump correctly than any of the Humans.

“Fifteen seconds,” Anakin said. “You ready?”

“Always,” she said, grabbing her goggles and making sure the dataspike Padme had given her was safe and her bag of gear was fastened securely across her chest.

And, just like that, they were over the building, and she had maybe a three-second window before the angle got all wrong.

“See you on the other side, Snips,” Anakin said, taking one hand off the wheel to make a fist for her to tap.

“See you on the other side,” she agreed, tapping it lightly with hers, then vaulted over the side of the speeder.

Just like she knew it would, all of her nerves, her constant, low-level worry about Anakin and what their pact with Obi-Wan and Padme might mean in the long run-- _ everything  _ except her fast-approaching target faded away. She curled around her gear and rolled with the impact, coming up in a crouch and holding still, checking for danger. Her montrals were still stubby and the new senses Obi-Wan had been showing her were still not very good, but there was nothing wrong with her eyes, or her ears.

No signs of trouble. Perfect.

She let out a slow, relieved breath, then darted across the roof to the west side of the building to start her descent.

First step--find a place to anchor her line. There was some iron grating; protecting a vent for the heat system. It should be enough to hold her weight.

_ Perfect. _

Once her line was secure, she shifted her bag of tools to make sure everything she’d need was within easy reach, then slipped over the edge and began lowering herself by inches, keeping an eye out for any additional sensors. But once she was past the top two floors, where the companies with more valuable businesses had their offices, she didn’t run into any problems.

She decided to risk speeding up a little, counting the windows as she went until she was seven floors down, about a third of the height of the building. A quick peek inside to make sure she was at the right window and there wasn’t anyone working late who might spot her--she was clear; just an empty desk up against the window that would give her a  _ perfect _ landing point--then she got her sonic cutter out of her bag.

_ Carefully, _ she cut a circle just wide enough for her head and shoulders to fit through, keeping a tight hold on the transparisteel disk. With a quick glance down at the street to make sure she was still clear--no one down there, and the camera on the building across the way pointed down and only rotated on a horizontal axis, because people were stupid sometimes--she swung in.

She didn’t stop on the desk when she landed but jumped off, crouching in the shadows behind it, listening for trouble or guards.

_ Still clear. _

She grinned a little, set her cut window on the ground and unhooked herself from her climbing harness. She clicked four buttons in succession on the end of it, and the cord detached itself from the vent on the roof, winding its way back into the harness--she’d reset it to climb down to street level on her way out.

_ Okay. Next step. Slice into the building systems, spoof the hallway cameras, then get out of this office and to the Imperial Tax Bureau. _

She checked her wrist chrono--she had two hours before the building’s security had their shift change, which was when she was at most risk of getting caught.  _ Plenty _ of time.

Ahsoka nodded briefly, made sure her gear was stowed out of sight of the door, then grabbed the dataspike and her slicing tools and got to work.


	9. Chapter 9

The area was a respectable enough one during the day, typical for urban districts on this planet--buildings were generally between twenty and thirty floors, with the upper levels containing offices or apartments and the lower levels containing stores or small restaurants--but at night, at least three of the restaurants turned somewhat...less respectable.

In other words, it was an almost ideal neighborhood for the break-in they had planned. In fact, a small part of Obi-Wan was actually concerned that everything seemed  _ too _ well-arranged for their little mission.

Still, it was what it was, and he was hardly complaining. Simply watchful, as he settled himself in one of the still-open restaurants with a dubious cocktail for cover.

Right on schedule, Anakin joined him, sliding into the seat across from him with a drink of his own.

“Everything going well?” Obi-Wan asked.

“So far,” Anakin said. “Wish we could see better from this angle.”

“So do I,” he admitted. But they’d decided, when scoping out their options the day before, to favor proximity over visibility. They were camped out only two doors down from where Ahsoka was committing her burglary, but facing the wrong direction; on the other hand, the only bar with a better view was on the other end of the block.

But Ahsoka had a comm she could use to signal for help if she needed it--one she would  _ not _ use unless she did, given the risk that any such signals might give her away. It was a good system, and one that she and Anakin had used before.

Although, judging by the way Anakin was fidgeting with his drink, he didn’t particularly  _ like _ to.

“Relax,” Obi-Wan said.

“I am relaxed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ll draw attention.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “I know what I’m doing,” he said, but his hands stilled.

They fell quiet for a moment, until Anakin broke the silence.

“We should keep talking,” he said. “You know. To avoid drawing attention. I came and sat with you, we’re obviously…uh.” He broke off. “We should keep talking.”

“Point,” Obi-Wan said.

“How...uh, how long have you and Padme been together?” Anakin asked.

“Just over three years,” Obi-Wan said. “At least on an official, permanent basis. We’ve been friends for longer.”

Anakin nodded. “You two seem really happy together.” There was a note of...something to his voice there, one Obi-Wan couldn’t quite decode.

“We are,” he said.

“That’s good,” Anakin said. “I mean, that you’re...you should be happy. People should find happiness where we can. Where they can.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan said.

“How’d you two meet?”

“Through a friend, actually,” Obi-Wan said. “The same one who...er...recommended this cafe, in fact.” He smiled slightly, at the memory--Padme had still been Queen then, and had learned to see through the web of lies the Emperor had spun around his home planet. She’d had questions, and, as with so many others in her position, Bail had cautiously recruited her.

And then a mission of Obi-Wan’s had gone badly, and who would look for him on Naboo, of all places?

“As I recall,” he said, “we spent most of the first two days arguing over how to resolve the...situation I’d ended up in. She won, naturally. She can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Anakin said, probably trying to look completely deadpan and failing miserably, a small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, and Anakin peeked up at him, and brightened a little when he saw the approval.

He...really did have a lovely smile.

Obi-Wan shook his head, and took a second sip of his drink to cover. It tasted just as vile as the first. There was a reason he hadn’t touched it since sitting down, he recalled.

“In any case, we stayed in touch after that,” Obi-Wan said. “Though somewhat sporadically--she was...well, contacting her directly had its risks.” Less so, in some ways, after she’d decided to go into the Senate, that she could better serve their movement from Coruscant than Theed--if only because there was more traffic, both of data and of beings, to cover anything either of them might do. Still, Obi-Wan could hardly go to the capital often. Even if he’d wanted to. There were too many...memories there, of Bail’s grey face against a smoke-stained sky.

He shook off those ghosts with the ease of long practice to find Anakin looking at him, with a slightly uncertain expression. Anakin started to reach for Obi-Wan’s hand, as if in comfort, then stopped, withdrawing to hold his drink instead. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “It was years ago. We’re together now, and that’s the most important thing.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, looking away, out the window. “It is.”

Though reaching that point had been a--harrowing experience in and of itself. He  _ had _ risked Coruscant for that; he’d been in the Core on other business when Padme’s distress signal had gone out. By the time he got there, she’d managed--with help from her handmaidens--to reach Bail’s apartment. He wouldn’t-- _ couldn’t _ \--forget that night, either; the look on her face, the blood still drying on her cheek, her eyes dry and hollow.

He had held her then, wordless, and Bail had given them that moment in private while he arranged their transport and Padme’s false identification.

But that had been three years ago. And, while there were still moments of concern--when a wanted poster with Padme’s face cropped up, or simply the stress of living in close quarters started to get to them, as it did to all couples--they had settled into their lives, into a comfortable closeness that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have traded for all the galaxy.

He hadn’t...realized, really, how lonely his life had been, until he got used to waking up with Padme lying in the bed next to him.

But--he and Anakin had fallen quiet once more, possibly conspicuously so. And Anakin was withdrawing again, still staring out the window with his shoulders slightly hunched over. He was fidgeting again, fingers dancing idly across the table, leaving his drink untouched.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I was--thinking.”

Anakin jerked a little and turned back to him. “What? Oh, don’t worry about it,” Anakin said, flashing him another one of those brilliant smiles, but with a peculiar edge to it.

“All right,” he said. “Still, it’s generally not a good idea to dwell so much on the past.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He looked down at the table, and, as if just now realizing how much he was fidgeting, flushed and grabbed his drink instead. To give his hands something to do, presumably.

“Everything all right?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Just...I hate this part.” He set his drink back down again. “Waiting, you know?”

“Yes, I do,” Obi-Wan said. “Padme doesn’t like it much, either. She’s probably pacing, or finding a half-dozen little organizational tasks to try and keep herself occupied, and leaving them less than half done before she starts pacing again.”

Anakin nodded. “Yeah, I do better when I have something to work on when I’m waiting on Ahsoka. I dunno what she does, but...you seem pretty calm about it.”

“Oh, I’m just very, very good at hiding it,” Obi-Wan said wryly.

Anakin laughed a little at that, which was a--soft, warm, pleasing sound. Obi-Wan found himself hoping he got more chances to hear it.

But, without the cup to keep them occupied, his hands had started dancing again; on impulse, or instinct, or simply because it felt--right, in that moment, Obi-Wan reached out and caught one.

Anakin flushed faintly and pulled his hand away, eyes dropping down to his drink.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “That was rude.”  _ I should not have done that. _

“No, it’s fine,” he said, quickly. “Just…it’s fine.”

Obi-Wan’s comm vibrated, and, judging by the expression on Anakin’s face--caught between relief and concern--so had his.

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yeah,” Anakin said. He checked the message, then frowned a little. “Come on, we need to move.”

Obi-Wan glanced at his own comm-- _ I’m okay, but my exit’s blocked. Gonna come out hard and fast. _

Well, that’s why they were here.

He stood up, leaving his drink behind. “Lead the way.”


	10. Chapter 10

The tax bureau break-in was behind Ahsoka now and, fortunately, everything had gone more or less according to plan. There  _ had _ been a near-miss with a camera she hadn’t realized had heat sensors until it was almost too late, but she’d found an alternate route to the server room.

Really, she’d’ve thought the  _ Empire _ was smarter than to build air ducts a teenager could fit through. Or at least, like, booby trap them or something.

Getting out had been even easier, and erasing any evidence she’d been there had just been a little bit of finagling with the looped security cameras, to cover for the missing time.

_ Another reason why I was the right choice to send in, _ she thought, as teased the lock to the Reitanen Medical Supply offices open again.  _ Togruta don’t have hair. Much less chance I left behind any trace genetic evidence. _

Which, of course, would only be a problem if the infiltration was discovered, and since she’d never been arrested before, would only connect her to other thefts, which--well, at this point she’d done all she could. Still, it was better to plan for that kind of thing just in case.

She slipped inside and shut the door behind her, then did a quick scan to make sure she was still clear. No sign of any other beings, other than a little cleaning droid whirring under and around the desks.

She was half-tempted to steal it for Anakin as long as she was here--it had been a while since he’d had a droid to work on, either because he was hired to or he’d gotten his hands on one at a junk shop; when he got it, that kind of work paid better than working on ships or speeders and he loved it almost as much--but, on second thought…

_ Don’t think I can carry that plus enough of this company’s _ actual _ stuff to make the break-in look legit, _ she decided.  _ Maybe next time. _

She probably should shut it off, though. Before its sensors actually picked her up and caused problems.

Ahsoka climbed up onto the closest desk and leaned down carefully in the droid’s blind spot, hitting the manual override on top. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll let you finish when it’s time for me to go.”

She straightened up and took another look around the office, trying to get a feel for where she might find a few valuable, portable items she could stuff in her gear bag.

It only took her a few minutes to decide on a likely door, three down from her entry point. She slipped through the main room like a shadow; tested the door; picked the lock, and went in.

“Wizard,” she whispered. It was  _ exactly _ what she was looking for--shelves lined with pieces for low-end and middle-grade prosthetics, mostly generic arms and legs for upright terrestrial bipeds, ready to be assembled for the users’ specifications.

She slipped back out, leaving the door open a crack, to grab her bag from the other room, then started filling it with as much of a variety as she could. Easier to sell on the black market that way--or distribute to clinics that needed them-- _ and  _ wouldn’t potentially put anyone specific in trouble. If, say, she only grabbed  _ leg _ pieces, then the local cops would start looking hard at anyone who’d recently lost one.

Her bag was maybe half full when she heard a noise out in the main room.

She went still, montrals twitching, straining to hear--was it just the little cleaning droid starting up again, or…?

No. Those were definitely footsteps.

_ Kriff. _

She checked the back wall of the room. If there was a window  _ here, _ she could probably escape that way. It’d involve some probably-terrifying ledge-creeping to get to her rope so she could climb down to the ground, but she could pull it off.

…nope. No window. Which made  _ sense, _ from the stupid company’s perspective, but it didn’t really help  _ her _ which was at the moment  _ way _ more important.

_ Okay. Plan B. This is gonna get messy. _

Ahsoka pulled out her comm. Not that she needed  _ rescue, _ exactly, but she was probably going to need Anakin and Obi-Wan on more active standby because her exit, when she finally made it, was gonna be, uh,  _ improvised. _

Unless she got super-lucky and whoever was out there moved in a different direction and she could just creep out the way she came, but she had a feeling she’d used up all her luck in the tax office earlier.

She activated the text-burst function and sent the others a quick message-- _ I’m okay, but my exit’s blocked. Gonna come out hard and fast. _

Anakin, at least, would know what she meant.

Now she just had to get out of here, get past her new friend, and find a window she could escape through.

More footsteps from the main room; they paused.

Ahsoka held her breath, waiting, waiting…

“Hello?” a voice called--male, with a faint Ryl accent. “Is someone there?”

_ Nope, _ Ahsoka thought.  _ No one here but you and the mouse droid. _

The footsteps resumed, more cautious, heading in her general direction.

_...okay, guess I’m out of neat options, _ she thought, scanning the shelves for something big enough to hit him with. She didn’t have her guns with her--all government offices had sensors that could detect weapons, so it hadn’t been worth the risk. She spotted a nearly-complete arm prosthetic, big enough for a Besalisk, and nodded.  _ That should work. _

She inched to a standing position, and carefully climbed up the shelf to pull it down--

Which was when her luck really, truly, completely,  _ utterly _ ran out.

The shelf was  _ not _ as stable as it had looked from the ground, and while it didn’t fall over, it  _ creaked. _

“Kriff!” she hissed. She snatched the arm and dropped down to the ground again, no longer caring about the noise.

The door swung open, revealing a startled, middle-aged Twi’lek who probably worked here or something.

Ahsoka swung the arm at him as hard as she could, before he had a chance to do more than see her. She missed his head, but got a solid hit across his shoulder. He yelped and stumbled back, and she grabbed her bag and  _ bolted _ for the nearest window.

_ You’d better be ready, Ani, _ she thought, grimly, as she shifted her grip on her bag to send it through first and break the glass for her.  _ Here we go--! _


	11. Chapter 11

_ I’m okay, but my exit’s blocked. Gonna come out hard and fast. _

Anakin knew  _ exactly _ what Ahsoka’s message meant.

Obi-Wan had gotten the same one, but, judging by the faint frown, he wasn’t as sure.

But there wasn’t time to explain. He’d get the picture soon enough.

As soon as they hit the street, Anakin picked up the pace, weaving through the milling pedestrians with the ease that only a former pickpocket had. He reached back blindly for Obi-Wan’s hand, so they didn’t get separated, and found it, pulling him towards the alley on the west side of the building where Ahsoka was trapped.

“I assume you have a plan?” Obi-Wan asked, quietly, as soon as they were out of the crowd and at less risk of being overheard.

“Yeah,” he said, scanning the speeders parked along the alley.  _ No, no, no, no--ooh, that one’s  _ nice, _ but it’s a new model, harder to steal…hah,  _ there  _ we go. _

“You think she’ll go back up to the roof?”

“No,” he said. “But she’s not gonna have time to lower herself down safely. She’s gonna have to jump, and she’ll need us there to catch her when she falls.” He handed Obi-Wan his pistol and got out his toolkit. “Here, keep an eye out for me, would you?”

“Mm.” Obi-Wan leaned against the wall while Anakin dug out the scanner and ran it along the speeder, checking for alarms or trackers or other traps.

_ Clear. Good. _ He wasn’t sure how long it would take Ahsoka to  _ get _ to a convenient window and make her jump, so the fewer things he had to deal with the better.

He tossed the scanner into the backseat and pulled out his next set of tools, to begin dismantling the steering column.

“You’ve done this before?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, yanking out a handful of wires and sorting through them. “Once or twice. Hang on, I need to focus for this bit.”

“Right.” Obi-Wan fell quiet for a few minutes.

_ No, no--okay, this one. _ Wire strippers came next, and--

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said sharply; a split second later, Anakin heard a sound that  _ every _ thief worth anything learned to recognize  _ quick-- _ the measured footsteps of Law Enforcement heading their way.

“Kriff,” he said. “Kriff!”

_ Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Just…need an excuse for being down this alley. …and to  _ not _ be holding a disassembled steering column and wire cutters. _

He dumped his tools in the driver’s seat and then did the first thing that popped into his head.

He kissed Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan tensed for a second, then obviously caught on to Anakin’s plan. He relaxed a little, even wrapped his arms around Anakin’s waist--gently; probably remembering the broken ribs, which  _ Anakin _ had completely forgotten about.

And he actually kissed  _ back. _

Obi-Wan, Anakin realized, was a  _ very good _ actor. If he didn’t know any better--

But he did.

The footsteps grew louder, paused at the entrance of the alley. Anakin felt a flashlight slide over him and Obi-Wan; could practically  _ hear _ the cop or the stormtrooper or whoever-it-was debate internally whether or not he should bother to interrupt and tell them to break it up, and then resume his patrol.

Anakin waited until the footsteps were just barely audible again before pulling away, hoping it wasn’t  _ too _ obvious how reluctant he was. “…uh. Sorry,” he said. “I was…just…couldn’t think of anything else. I didn’t mean…”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, and smiled. There was a hint of-- _ something _ \--that Anakin couldn’t quite read in his eyes. “It  _ was _ a good cover.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Anakin said, relieved. “A cover. That’s all. I’m not--you and Padme are--I’m gonna get back to hotwiring the speeder.”

“Probably wise,” Obi-Wan agreed. “…and, Anakin--if you’re concerned you overstepped in any way…Padme and I trust one another. This isn’t the first time either of us has had to flirt with someone else for a cover.”

_ Of course. That  _ was _ their original plan for this job, wasn’t it? Besides, that makes _ way  _ more sense than--why would  _ either _ of them be interested in me when they have each other? _

“Oh,” Anakin said. “Uh. I mean, right. That’s good. Of course you do. I’m glad. Thanks. That’s…good to know.” He buried his head in the steering column, hoping that that and the dim light in the alley hid the fact that he was probably  _ bright _ red with embarrassment.

It only took him about thirty more seconds to get it going, and by then, he had a little more control over himself.

“Get in,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “And hold on.”

Obi-Wan nodded, sliding in beside him.

Above them, a window shattered, and out of the corner of his eye, Anakin caught sight of a compact shadow flying out towards them.

_ Not Ahsoka--too small; probably her bag-- _

He slammed the speeder into gear and shot straight up, ignoring Obi-Wan’s yelp of surprise as well as the twinge from his ribs when inertia drove him back against his seat. He banked hard, swerving to make sure the bag landed neatly in the rear of the speeder.

“Anakin--!” Obi-Wan said, alarmed.  _ “Anakin, _ we’re going to hit the--”

Another gear shift, and he cleared the wall by inches, pulling nearly vertical again. His chest felt tight; he’d probably pay for this later, but Ahsoka would be coming out that window after her bag any second now and if he didn’t get in position--

_ There! _

He shifted into a hard reverse, picking up more bruises from the steering column, and slammed on the brakes, pausing just long enough for Ahsoka to hit the backseat next to her bag.

“Go, go, go!” she said, and he didn’t need the repetition.

He shot upward into the sky, dimly caught sight of a middle-aged Twi’lek hanging out of the window, watching them meld into the traffic above.

“You okay?” Anakin asked, when he caught some of his breath back.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said. “You were cutting it kind of close.”

“Cop came by, sorry,” he said, shifting lanes and glancing first back at her--a few scrapes, probably from the window, including a shallow cut on her forehead, but she otherwise looked okay--and then at Obi-Wan. Who was clinging, white-knuckled, to the door handle, and looked faintly green. “…are  _ you _ okay?”

“I am fine,” Obi-Wan said, deliberately, slowly releasing his deathgrip on the door. “That was…exciting. Please don’t ever do it again.”

“Hey, it worked. We all made it out okay.” His ribs twinged reproachfully, and he ignored them. “Should probably ditch the speeder soon, though. Don’t know if the guy at the window got our plate number or anything.”

“Good call,” Ahsoka said, then shot him a worried look through the rearview mirror.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just sore. Still good to drive. And walk back to the ship.”

She looked dubious, but didn’t call him on it. “I did it, though,” she said, glancing at Obi-Wan instead. “Virus got uploaded fine. I’m not sure who that guy was, but I think he works for Reitanen.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Coming to work when the office is quiet and deserted, perhaps.”

“Or stealing office supplies himself,” Anakin said.

“Or that,” he acknowledged. “I…apologize, to you both. I hope this won’t cause you any trouble.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Nah. I mean, our prints and stuff are probably on file, but we haven’t ever been _ caught _ caught, so...”

Anakin nodded. He spotted a good place to dump the speeder and shifted over a few lanes. “So, this might be connected to some other thefts of ours, but it won’t be connected to  _ us.” _

“That’s good, at least,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll call Padme once we’ve landed, let her know we’re on our way.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Anakin said, and then started their descent.


	12. Chapter 12

The others had come back safe and at least  _ mostly _ sound, which was a relief. And even Anakin hadn’t outright rebroken his ribs, just strained them more than he should. Ahsoka had dragged him off to go lie down, leaving Padme and Obi-Wan alone in the main corridor.

“Do you think we should take off right away?” Padme asked.

He considered for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “We  _ were _ seen, but I don’t believe we were followed. We can leave at a more reasonable hour, and blend in with regular traffic.”

She nodded, relieved, and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m glad it went as well as it did.”

“As am I,” he said. He kissed the top of her head.

She leaned against him for a long moment, basking in the comfort of his steady heartbeat, before finally pulling back. “I’m going to go take the engines off standby,” she said. “Then you can fill me in on all the details.”

“Of course,” he said. “It was certainly...an interesting one.” 

“Why does that not surprise me?” she asked, wryly. True, they hadn’t known Anakin and Ahsoka for very long, but she wouldn’t need much more than knowing Anakin had attacked an Inquisitor with a pocket knife to figure out that life with the two of  _ them _ would never be boring.

Obi-Wan laughed softly, then kissed her one last time before disappearing into their cabin.

Switching the engines from standby to a full shutdown didn’t take long, but by the time she rejoined her partner, he had already cleaned up and changed into softer sleepwear.

“So,” she said, as Obi-Wan settled cross-legged on the bed and she started unpinning her hair. “Tell me everything.”

The salient points came first, of course--Ahsoka had infiltrated the building successfully; Obi-Wan and Anakin had been on standby as planned, and had a nice conversation in the cantina while they were waiting for word. Ahsoka had had a little trouble with her exit, but Anakin had known exactly what to do. The two of them had nearly been caught, but, again, Anakin had had a clever solution.

Padme paused for a split second with the last of her pins, a little startled by how hard Obi-Wan’s description of that kiss hit her.

She could picture it; Anakin’s golden hair in the dim glow of the street lights, Obi-Wan’s arms around him the way they’d so often wrapped around her, except he’d have to lean up instead of down, and…

Anakin’s summer-blue eyes, soft in the dark.

Obi-Wan caught on to her reaction immediately. He knew her so well.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” he asked, surprised.

“What? No, of course--well, kind of,” she admitted, flushing a little as that image of Anakin leaning down filled her mind again. “But...not in the way you mean.”

Obi-Wan looked puzzled for a minute, then he blinked. “...you wish you were the one he’d kissed?”

“Um,” she said. “...honestly, yeah.” She paused. “Does that bother you?”

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. For one thing, considering how I felt when he kissed me, it would be rather hypocritical, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, putting her hairpins back in their box and running her hands through her hair to work out the extra waves from the bun and get it to lie more or less flat. “It’s strange. We haven’t actually known him for that long, and yet…”

“He’s certainly distracting,” Obi-Wan said wryly, as Padme settled on the ground at his feet and he started brushing through her hair.

She was, of course, perfectly capable of doing it herself, but there was something about the tactile closeness involved when  _ he _ did it, that…

It had become their ritual, over the last three years. Unless they were too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed, or their mission, whether self-directed or based on intel from one of their contacts, kept their schedule too hectic, at the end of the day, Obi-Wan would brush her hair and they’d just talk. For as long as it took.

She laughed. “Well, that’s a word for it.” She leaned into his hands, and he sighed, and gently nudged her head straight again. “...so, I guess that means both of us…?”

“So it would seem,” Obi-Wan said. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” she said. “I mean...no, it doesn’t. We never talked about this, is all.”

“True,” Obi-Wan agreed. “…are you saying we should pursue this?”

“I don’t know,” Padme said. “I honestly don’t. We haven’t known him very long, but at the same time, it already feels like we’ve known him for years. Or, at least, it feels like that for me.”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Obi-Wan said. “He...fits.”

“Yes, exactly,” she said. “And he’s…beautiful, and clever, and  _ determined _ and brave and still…still sweet. Despite the kind of life he’s lived.” Not that he and Ahsoka had confided all  _ that _ much in her and Obi-Wan yet, but they knew enough to read between the lines. Anakin and Ahsoka had clearly been on their own for a long time, and how they’d gotten to that point...well, there weren’t a whole lot of  _ happy _ stories that ended that way.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said simply. “All of those things. And…not just sweet, but… _ earnest. _ He wants to do well, he  _ wants _ to help people--I think that, as cynical as he pretends to be, as wary as he is of ulterior motives in everyone around him, he still  _ tries. _ Look how quickly he offered to help us with this mission today. And that is…magnificent.”

_ “Distracting.” _

“Indeed.”

They were quiet for a minute. “And it’s not…entirely one-sided,” Padme said. “So to speak. I mean, from everything you said about how he acted out there...and, besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you,  _ felt _ the way he looks at me…”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said again. He hesitated for another moment, his hands stilling; then he resumed brushing. He asked, almost  _ too  _ casually, “Is this something that you want?”

Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t like the idea was foreign in and of itself--plural marriages were  _ rare _ on Naboo, but not unheard of. One of her favorite teachers, when she was a little girl, had had three wives and four husbands. But for her and Obi-Wan, specifically…

“We’ve never talked about it before,” she said.

“It’s never come up,” he pointed out.

“True,” she said. And it was. There had been  _ attraction _ before--they were both young, and neither of them was blind, after all. They had come across one or two beautiful beings who caught her eye, or Obi-Wan’s, or both, if only for a moment. But there had never been anyone quite like Anakin. There had never been anyone she could imagine sharing Obi-Wan with; someone she could picture beside them,  _ between _ them; someone worth splitting her time and her heart.

“It is,” she said, finally. “You?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “Yes, I think it is. I think we could do it. We could make it work, with him.”

“We could,” she agreed. And it was a little--startling, a little  _ frightening, _ almost, that it had all come together so quickly, but she could already picture it; Anakin in the chair across from them, or sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Obi-Wan while the three of them talked in an expanded evening ritual, those summer-blue eyes warm and smiling; a soft, quiet moment--the kind of lazy morning that existed primarily in fantasy these days, with Anakin’s head resting on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, still half-asleep; late at night, with her hands tangled in his golden hair, with Obi-Wan’s warm breath on her neck…

She shifted, slightly, trying to keep her head still; she could  _ feel _ a renewed heat from Obi-Wan, which meant he was probably picturing something similar; his brushstrokes, while still smooth and even, were maybe just a little firmer than they had been a moment before--

For a long, breathless, paradisiacal moment, the future hung suspended, and she could  _ picture _ it. The way Anakin would fit into their lives, between them and beside them, and it would be…perfect.

And then reality came crashing back down.

“We can’t,” she said.

Obi-Wan stopped. “...no, we can’t,” he agreed, softly.

She swallowed. And even if he didn’t need to hear it, she needed to  _ say _ it, to make it real.

“I’ve…seen the way he looks at you.  _ Felt _ the way he looks at me. There  _ is _ an attraction there. You and I, love, are very attractive people. But...” She closed her eyes, and leaned back against him. “I keep thinking about what he said, when he and Ahsoka first arrived. About…about paying us back.” Not to mention that they  _ had _ saved him and his little sister, and it was all too easy to misread--or worse,  _ manipulate, _ intentionally or otherwise--that kind of gratitude, especially when it was mixed with some level of at least physical desire.

“Yes.”

“How can we be  _ sure?” _ she asked, turning to look up at her partner; her lover; her very best friend in the world. “How can we be  _ sure _ that, if we act on this, if we ask  _ him  _ to--how can we know that it’s what he really, truly  _ wants, _ and not just…not just him doing what he thinks  _ we _ want?”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said. “We can’t…we can’t take advantage of him like that.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t be,” Padme said. “But we can’t  _ know.” _

“And I don’t know that he’d tell us, if we were,” Obi-Wan agreed. He sighed, set the brush aside, and sank down on the floor, wrapping his arms around her.

Padme leaned into him. “So, we can’t.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “But I wish…”

It was just out of reach; that fantasy of Anakin’s golden hair and summer-blue eyes and sweet smile; beside them and between them and  _ theirs _ to share.

“Me, too,” she said, closing her eyes and burying her head in his shoulder. “Me, too.”


	13. Chapter 13

Watching Obi-Wan and Ahsoka practice had, like always, left Anakin feeling weird and lightheaded after a while. Honestly, he wasn’t totally sure why he kept joining them in the first place--he trusted Obi-Wan enough at this point, and even if he  _ didn’t, _ Ahsoka didn’t really need him hovering. But something drew him down to the ship’s little cargo hold every time they went anyway, something he couldn’t quite place.

Well, he kind of could. Part of it was just habit--even if she didn’t  _ need _ him around under those specific circumstances, he and Ahsoka didn’t really like being separated for any length of time. Even after two months here, they both still constantly looked up and checked to make sure they knew exactly where the other was. Out of habit, so deep into them that it was almost instinctive. It had been helpful when she was little, while they were running, and it still  _ was, _ when they were pulling off a complicated job. So it wasn’t a pattern either of them especially wanted to break.

Part of it was also, probably, just…Obi-Wan. Getting to spend a little time watching him in his element, sort of, was…it was beautiful. Even if he kept cautioning them that he wasn’t well-trained enough.

Besides, Ahsoka liked having him there, and it was probably a good thing. So they’d be able to work together better, figuring in her abilities, if they left.

_ Huh.  _ It occurred to Anakin, out of nowhere, that somewhere along the line it had become  _ if _ they left, instead of  _ when. _ He didn’t know exactly when that shift had happened, but it had. For Ahsoka too, he was pretty sure. Or, at least, the last repair project she’d suggested, when they were brainstorming things he could do last night, hadn’t been anything  _ necessary _ or even just for Padme and Obi-Wan’s convenience. It had been a modification to some of the environmental controls, one with  _ long-term _ benefit, assuming more occupants on an indefinite basis.

Actually, he could start on that now. Yeah, that seemed like a great idea--he liked finding something purely mechanical when his head got weird like this, after hanging around with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka when they did Jedi stuff for too long.

When he was sure they weren’t looking, he quietly got up and slipped out, swinging by the storage closet he and Ahsoka had converted into a berth they could share for his tools. It wasn’t the smallest or least comfortable place they’d ever slept by  _ far;  _ especially once Ahsoka had started lining the shelves with various shiny things she’d found when they were out and about, either helping Padme and Obi-Wan with one of their missions, or scouting out supplies, or just stretching their legs for a bit.

…come to think of it,  _ that _ was probably when the shift had happened. From ‘when’ to ‘if.’ When Ahsoka had started decorating their space. Which was--longer than he thought. A week or so after the tax bureau, if he remembered right.

Not that it really mattered, he supposed. It was just…weird. He hadn’t ever really considered a semi-permanent home even for just the two of them. And to start to fit into one with two people who, however kind and wonderful, were still…

“Something wrong?”

Anakin jumped about a mile, banging his head into the doorway and nearly dropping his tools. He just  _ barely _ managed to catch them before they hit the ground.

“Padme!” he half-yelped.  _ Great. Just great. That was  _ super _ dignified, nice going Anakin--stop. Stop it, she’s not--she and Obi-Wan are together, you  _ know _ that. Damn it. _ “Uh. Sorry. No, nothing’s wrong, just…um. Thinking. Hi.”

“Hi,” she said, and smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I was just going to--um. Tweak the environmental controls a little bit.”

She nodded, and stepped back a little, to give him room to pass. “Right,” she said. “…do you need a hand? We’re on autopilot for the next few hours, and I can monitor comms from pretty much anywhere.”

“Uh,” he said. “I mean. Yeah, if you want. Sure. That’d be…that’d be great.” It’d mean less sliding in and out from under things, at least. And a chance to spend a little more time with her...

She gave him another one of those shining smiles and he  _ reminded _ himself, very sternly, that she and Obi-Wan were perfect for one another and he shouldn’t...he knew better.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile back, before ducking his head and half-turning so she wouldn’t see him blush. “Right. We should…not bother Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. So. Secondary access.”

“Makes sense,” she said, and headed off towards the cockpit. This  _ would _ be easier to rework if he was tapping the environmental controls directly, from down in the hold near the engine casings, but…yeah.

It wasn’t a long walk, obviously; the ship wasn’t all that big, but somehow it felt that way. They fell into step, Anakin automatically taking shorter ones so she wouldn’t have to hurry to keep up with him. It felt…natural, the rhythm they found, walking side by side, almost but not  _ quite _ close enough for their hands to brush against one another.

Which was--

Nice.

And probably  _ dangerous, _ given how he felt about her. And Obi-Wan. Because the  _ last _ thing he wanted to do was be in the way, and make things hard or weird for them.

_ Think of something else. Think of  _ anything  _ but your hands touching. _

And maybe it was an aftertaste of that odd headspace he got into when he watched Obi-Wan and Ahsoka work; or maybe it was just a side effect of thinking about how nice she was, but a question that had been sort of worrying at the back of his head for a while now drifted to the front of his mind.

“Can I ask you something?” Anakin said.

“Of course,” she said.

He hesitated a moment, trying to figure out the right way to put it so he didn’t sound judgmental. Or selfish. Or…yeah, maybe this was a bad idea.

_ I really need to stop just blurting the first thing that comes to mind.  _ How _ many times has it gotten me into trouble now? I should know better. _

But he’d already opened his big mouth, so, that was that.

“Why do you do what you do?” he asked, as she opened the cockpit door. “You and Obi-Wan, I mean. I mean, some of it, I get--stepping in to help me and Ahsoka when that Inquisitor found her. It’s not like we…” He shook his head. “But some of it, like that virus we helped you plant…I don’t get it. It puts you in danger and…why?”

Because trying to save someone who needed rescue, to solve an immediate, tangible problem for someone, was one thing. No one ever did it for no  _ reason, _ of course, but even he and Ahsoka had gotten involved once or twice, when people got out of line. Sure, the world operated on give and take. People traded favors, fought over resources, protected their own--and, yeah, sometimes at the expense of their neighbors.

But there were some people who only  _ took, _ who didn’t remember the “protecting their own” part of how the world was supposed to work, and skipped right to cheating their neighbors. And stopping them--or stepping in to help the people they were hurting, when it was right in front of you…he got that.

But there was  _ more _ to what Padme and Obi-Wan did than that. Even if Anakin couldn’t explain it, he knew it was  _ there. _ He just didn’t understand  _ why. _

Padme didn’t answer right away, and Anakin glanced over at her, sidelong, as he started to open up the console he needed to access. He was worried for a minute that he  _ had _ sounded like an awful person, but she didn’t look angry or disappointed or even sad again, just thoughtful.

“Because  _ someone _ has to,” she finally said. “Because the Empire is evil. It hurts and oppresses people, in ways that are both large-scale and deeply,  _ deeply _ personal. And standing by and doing  _ nothing, _ when we can take action against it, isn’t something either of us is willing or able to do. And  _ because _ we can step in and act--which isn’t the case for everyone, we know that. It wasn’t even always the case for me. But right now, Obi-Wan and I have the skills and the connections and the resources to fight back, at least on a small scale.”

He considered that for a moment, before answering. It kind of made sense, when she put it that way. The little pieces he’d  _ almost _ understood were falling into place--it wasn’t all  _ that _ far off from what he already knew, really. Just…applying the same concept on a much larger scale.

He and Ahsoka had even talked, a few years back, about maybe going back into Hutt space and doing something for the slaves who weren’t quick or clever or just plain lucky enough to escape like they had. If they ever managed to save enough to get a decent ship, plus the time and resources to modify it the way they’d need. But their own survival had always come first, and it had never been a  _ real _ option.

And, true, while he knew it was awful--because  _ everyone _ knew that--the Empire had never really struck Anakin as quite as bad as the Hutts, let alone any  _ worse. _ But, then again, the Empire did  _ some _ of the same things, sort of, but they were more widespread and efficient and…

Okay, yeah, maybe the Empire was at least on the Hutts’ level. In terms of  _ impact, _ anyway, if not specific acts. So, taking it down like this  _ was _ a good idea. Given the time and the resources and the skills and the  _ access. _

And, now that he thought about it, if he hadn’t had a little sister to protect, maybe he would’ve done things differently, after running away. And he was pretty sure that Padme and Obi-Wan had both been adults, and already  _ very _ good at what they did, before they’d started this crusade.

“I guess that makes sense,” he finally said, then ducked under the console to get to work.

“Oh, good,” Padme said, then laughed a little. “It’s funny--I used to be...I like to think of myself as good with words--good at explaining difficult concepts, but some things…”

“Yeah,” he said. “Some things you just have to feel it to really get it, I guess?”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “And this type of duty, of--devotion, almost…I guess it’s like trying to explain a priestly vocation.”

“Or love,” he added, then froze.

“Or love,” she agreed, softly.

There was a beat of silence, and then he heard her shift in her chair, and clear her throat.

“Can I ask you something now?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Anything.”

“What about you?” she asked. “You and Ahsoka--how did you end up doing what you do?”

“Oh,” he said, and made a face that he was grateful she couldn’t see.  _ Should’ve expected that. _

It wasn’t that he was exactly trying to  _ hide _ where they’d come from. He wasn’t ashamed of who he’d been. Just…he didn’t want it to change the way she and Obi-Wan thought of him.

Which it wouldn’t. It  _ wouldn’t, _ he knew them better than that by now, and if they didn’t think less of them for being thieves…

“It’s not all that much of a story, really,” he said.

“I’d still like to hear it,” she said. “If you’re willing to share.”

And there was something in her tone that made him flush again.

“We kind of stole ourselves,” Anakin said after a minute. “Ahsoka was brought in when she was really little--three or so, I think. And we were the only kids, so we sort of latched on to each other. I’d been thinking about running away for a while, and once I had her to think about, too, it seemed a lot more urgent. So, we ran. Figured out how to fool our transmitters, and got out of Hutt space as fast as we could and never looked back.”

Which was--well,  _ mostly _ true. True enough.

“You were slaves?”

Her tone was neutral, but it still made him tense a little.

“Emphasis on  _ were,” _ he said, trying to keep his tone light.

“Yes,” she said. “And I’m glad for that. Not that--not that you were there to begin with, but…”

“I know what you meant,” he assured her. “Uh. Could you hand me the hydrospanner?”

“Right.” He heard her digging around in his kit. “...you have three in here, which size?”

“The middle one,” he said, coming out from under the panel so he could make sure she found the right one. “Yeah, that one.” He reached up to accept it, very careful to avoid brushing her fingertips, before ducking his head back under the console and getting back to work. “Anyway, uh, it turned out we were sort of good at stealing things. And, like I said before, no one would hire me as a mechanic, or a pilot, so…”

“Mechanic, master thief, and a pilot, too?” Padme teased, and he could  _ hear  _ her smiling at him.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Okay, when you put it like  _ that, _ it sounds--anyway, I’m not sure I’d say  _ master _ thief, exactly,” he said. “But--yeah, I’m a pilot. Or, I  _ want _ to be, anyway. I don’t…I know  _ how,  _ I learned when I was a kid, for the races, and I fix ships often enough these days, but I don’t get a whole lot of chances to fly one. Speeders and skimmers, though, yeah, every chance I get. I still race, sometimes, too. Just little street races, since it’s hard enough to pull together the entry fees for those, but when I  _ win, _ it’s all worth it--and I’m talking too much. Uh. Sorry.”

_ Why are you even bragging like this? _ he asked himself, then squelched that thought as resolutely as he could. Of  _ course _ he wanted Padme to know what he was capable of, but not because he wanted her to like him. Because even if he and Ahsoka  _ had  _ put a lot towards balancing the scales, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Besides. If he stopped being useful, then the balance between them would just get even  _ more _ skewed. As long as they  _ stayed  _ here, he and Ahsoka had to keep proving their value. Because the universe was built on give and take, on trading favors back and forth. That was just the way of things. And, sure, Ahsoka was helping Obi-Wan clear  _ his  _ debt to the universe or the Force or whatever, but Anakin--

Had his hands, and his skills, and whatever use he could find for them.

_ Just focus on that. And don’t push too hard. Back off a little, come on, you know better than this. _

“You’re not,” she said. Reassuring, rather than patronizing, and he was suddenly  _ very _ glad she couldn’t see his face right now, and that he couldn’t see  _ hers; _ he could already feel himself flushing. It would be so,  _ so _ much worse if he was looking at her, he knew that.

“Uh. Good.”

“Racing, though…” she said, after a moment. “I mean, even the pro circuits can get pretty dangerous, and I’m guessing street races have even fewer rules?”

“I guess,” Anakin said, latching onto the tangent with relief. “But--I mean, like I said, when I win, even if I can’t get into the races that have real money in play, the prizes make things easier for me and Ahsoka for a while. And she doesn’t worry all  _ that _ much. And I love it. It’s…” He set his hydrospanner aside, studying the wires and considering the best way to rearrange them while he searched for the right words. “I feel free. I always do, when I’m flying. Always have. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

Padme was quiet for a moment after that, and he started to think that maybe he’d said the wrong thing, made things weird and awkward again, before she broke the silence herself.

“So,” she said, and her tone was light and teasing again, “if Obi-Wan and I put you on pilot rotation with us, you wouldn’t mind?”

That was  _ not _ at all what he’d been expecting to hear.

Anakin sat bolt upright, banged his head on the console again, and bit back a curse.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Fine!” he said. “Just--banged my head. You’d--you’d really let me do that?”

“Of course,” Padme said. “If it’s something that makes you happy. And, honestly, it’d be really helpful for us, too--Obi-Wan doesn’t actually like flying very much, and probably we could both do with shorter shifts. It’s not like racing, especially not illegal underground racing, but…”

“It’s still  _ flying,” _ Anakin said. “Yes, I’d...I’m happy to do that. Thank you.”

“I should really be the one thanking you,” she said. “Like I said, you’d be doing us a favor.”

Well, the way Anakin saw it, he still owed her and Obi-Wan a favor or three, but Padme always got this...weird, sad look when he brought it up. Cultural norms, like he’d thought when he first came here. And he really didn’t want to make her sad. Especially since he’d already put his foot in his mouth at  _ least _ half a dozen times in this one conversation.

For once, he was proud to say, he actually managed to keep from digging himself in deeper.

“Okay,” he said, instead. “Uh, can you hand me the--the small pliers, the ones with the blue tape on the handle?”

“Sure,” she said, and he heard her digging through his kit before pressing the tool into his hand.

“Thanks,” he said, and this time, he couldn’t avoid brushing her hand. He tried not to think about how nice her fingers felt against his before she pulled back.

And maybe--maybe he just imagined it, but he thought her hand lingered for just a second too long.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and there was something--something--a sort of  _ pressure _ to it, like the air was physically weighted down with it. With the things he didn’t want to say, with the--

With the ghost of her hand on his.

He closed his eyes, and let it fade, and got back to work, leaving it to Padme to come up with something else to say, if she wanted.

Because Anakin knew if  _ he _ opened his mouth again right now, he’d say exactly the wrong thing.


	14. Chapter 14

Anakin and Ahsoka had been living with Padme and Obi-Wan for four months now, and it was almost-- _ almost _ \--perfect. Despite working with--and at this point more or less  _ becoming-- _ wanted anti-government fugitives, those four months, on this ship, had probably been the stablest home they’d ever had. And everything Ahsoka was learning, this whole entire  _ universe _ that Obi-Wan had shown her...she wouldn’t have traded that for anything. And Padme was brilliant, and  _ kind, _ and honestly if Ahsoka could grow up to  _ be _ her she would be pretty happy.

She’d never had anyone but Anakin before, and she’d never  _ needed _ anyone but Anakin before, but now she had two more big siblings who she  _ loved, _ and who loved her and Anakin too, and if that was the end of it, she would absolutely want to stay here forever.

But there was one problem.

And it was a  _ big _ problem.

It hadn’t been too bad at first. There were little things she’d noticed; the way Anakin’s eyes lit up whenever Obi-Wan or Padme entered the room; the way he sometimes lingered just a  _ bit _ too long when their hands accidentally brushed, and then caught himself and pulled back as if he thought he’d done something wrong; the way he smiled when either of them thanked him or complimented him for something.

The way he caved in when he thought they were mad at him. The way he’d started sneaking down to the hold late at night, when he wasn’t on pilot duty and was  _ supposed _ to be sleeping, to work on one of his repair projects until he crashed and she tripped over him the next morning.

Yeah. Ahsoka may not have been Human, but Human and Togruta psychology wasn’t all  _ that _ different. And this was a  _ problem. _

Because as much as she loved it here, as happy as she was, and as much as she was starting to think that whatever movement Obi-Wan and Padme were part of was something she and Anakin should be, too…

They had one rule. Ever since they’d stolen themselves and a ship and made their way out of Hutt space, she and Ani had had  _ one _ rule.

_ Always look out for each other. _

She wouldn’t be following that rule, or being a very good sister, if she didn’t try to help him with this.

They were parked on a planet whose name she had already forgotten for a couple days, and Obi-Wan and Padme were out on an errand, or maybe even a date, so this was as good a time as any for it.

It didn’t take her long to track Anakin down; she found him right where she expected, underneath one of the engine access panels, replacing some of the wiring.

“Hey,” she said.

“Mmph,” he replied; probably had something in his mouth since his hands were busy.

_ Well, at least  _ that _ hasn’t changed. _ She smiled a little, and hopped up onto the console, tucking her feet up so they’d be out of his way. “Can we talk a minute?” she asked, switching to the Huttese dialect they’d grown up with--sure, Obi-Wan and Padme were out, but this should be extra-private, just in case.

A few seconds before he answered, probably just him juggling his tools. “Sure,” he answered; same language. “Long’s I don’t have to come back out. Don’t wanna lose my place.”

“‘Course,” she said. She’d’ve offered to help, but they couldn’t  _ both _ fit down there. If he needed her smaller hands, he’d tell her.

“Thanks,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Are you in love with them?”

Anakin’s head banged into the console and he swore.  _ “What?” _

“Are you in love with them?” she repeated. “Obi-Wan and Padme.”

“I--I’m not--wh-what--why do you--I…”

_ “Anakin.” _

Okay. Technically, they had  _ two  _ rules, and their  _ other _ rule, of course, was  _ don’t lie to each other. _ They kept secrets, sure. They’d basically lived in each others’ pockets for as long as she could remember--since she’d been sold to his Master--so they didn’t pry or violate whatever little tiny scraps of privacy the other had without a damn good reason. But they never,  _ ever _ lied.

“...I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. I think so. Maybe. I don’t know. They’re...I mean, they’re beautiful, and kind, and...a little, I guess, I don’t--why does it matter?”

_ Oh, karking hell. _

It was worse than she thought.

“We should leave,” she said.

“What? No!” he said. “We’re...we have a good life here, and Obi-Wan and Padme--they do good work, and we can do a lot of good  _ helping _ them, and you need him to teach you, and--”

“And you’re  _ miserable,” _ she said, flatly. “Ani, look, I don’t need a teacher _ that _ badly.”

She heard him stop working. “Snips…”

“I  _ don’t,” _ she insisted. “I know enough now that I can probably avoid any other Inquisitors that come after me, and...and we did  _ fine _ on our own, before. We can do it again. We can even...we can even keep doing the work, focus on fighting and stealing from the Empire  _ our _ way.”

“I know we can,” he said. “Just…just…”

“Just  _ what?” _ she said. Because Anakin’s pining was...well, okay, it  _ had _ been kind of funny when she’d first noticed it, even if she never got around to properly teasing him over it. But lately...lately, she was worried he was going to have to deal with  _ worse _ than just heartbreak.

He slid out at last, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

“Watching them...watching them happy together, and being on the outside, is...it’s...hard,” Anakin admitted. “It  _ hurts. _ But...but the idea of...of  _ not _ being here, of  _ not _ being with them, even if I can’t...if I can’t…” He trailed off, running out of words.

“You’ve really got it bad, haven’t you,” she said, after a minute.

He laughed a little. “You’ve  _ seen  _ them.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I mean...maybe...maybe you’re right, and I’m not...but I don’t think...I think the only thing worse than being here and not...and  _ not _ being a part of that, would be not having them at  _ all.” _

Ahsoka didn’t like it. She  _ really _ didn’t like it. But he...might not be wrong. If he was already in this deep... _ maybe, _ if they left, he’d get over the heartbreak.

Or maybe he’d keep pining, and he wouldn’t even have those little comforts he had here.

“I guess,” she said. “I’m just...worried about you. You haven’t been sleeping, and…” She trailed off, not sure how to explain the other thing.

“I have been,” Anakin protested. “Just...at weird times and in weird places. I’ve done that before, when things got hectic for us, you know that.”

“Point,” she admitted. “...are you sure you wanna stay?  _ Really _ sure? And not just...not just ‘cause of me. Like I said, I think I know enough now, and we shouldn’t…”

Anakin stared at her for a second. “I mean, I don’t...I don’t think we should be so quick to give up your teacher. Because if you’re wrong, then we probably won’t be able to find another one. And my...my... _ this _ shouldn’t be more important than keeping you safe from the Inquisitors.”

She wasn’t totally sure she agreed, but that was something she figured she and Anakin would  _ never _ totally agree on. Rule number one, after all--look out for each other. And they both took it seriously, even when it meant not looking out for themselves.

But for now…

For now, she’d let him win. But she’d keep a  _ very _ close eye on him, just to be sure.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll drop it. Until I think I  _ have _ to bring it up again. And if I do, will you  _ listen _ to me?”

“I’ll try,” he promised.

“Thanks,” she said, then hopped down off the console to hug him tight.

He hugged her back. “Thanks, Snips,” he murmured, and it didn’t matter that she didn’t know exactly what for.


	15. Chapter 15

The boys and Ahsoka were out, scouting a local Imperial warehouse to see if it was worth robbing--either for to supply themselves, or to distribute among civilians who needed it--leaving Padme in the ship to track the news, monitor the comms, and, of course, keep the engines warm; on standby in case they needed a quick exit.

It was just the usual propaganda nonsense on the news, for the most part--nothing they could act on right away, but a few potential things worth further investigation. She took a few notes here and there, but was basically able to let it wash over her without paying very close attention.

In other words, she didn’t really need to  _ focus, _ just be here in case something else came in. She leaned back in the copilot’s chair, spinning back and forth absently and letting her search algorithms do their job.

And, as they still did  _ too damn often, _ her thoughts drifted towards Anakin, and the increasingly tense undercurrents flowing between him, and her, and Obi-Wan.

She was...a little confused, really. Uncertain. As was Obi-Wan. And, worse, she thought  _ Anakin  _ might be, too. She and Obi-Wan still clung to the resolution they’d made months ago--until they could be absolutely  _ sure _ that Anakin was  _ genuinely _ interested, and wasn’t reaching out out of some sense of  _ obligation, _ in response to  _ their _ maybe-too-obvious attraction, they could  _ not  _ say anything.

And Anakin--

Oh, Anakin. Sweet Anakin, with his golden hair and those summer-blue eyes and the way he found a thousand different ways to fit into their lives. To a point where she couldn’t imagine their world without him--and Ahsoka, of course--in it.

And then there was the way he  _ looked _ at her, or at Obi-Wan, when he thought they weren’t watching, but then clammed up and pulled back as soon as one of them reached out…

None of that had changed. In all these months, exactly  _ nothing _ had changed, except that it had maybe grown more intense. They were hanging suspended, the three of them, just waiting for something to break.

_ We’ll probably  _ have _ to talk to him, _ she decided.  _ Ethics or not, there’s  _ something... _ I don’t know  _ what _ it is, but there’s definitely  _ something _ lurking under the surface there, and if we just let it fester, at least one of us is going to get hurt. _

_ Probably him. _

She closed her eyes. That was the  _ last _ thing she wanted to do, especially when it seemed like he and Ahsoka were  _ finally _ learning to open up, to really  _ trust _ her and Obi-Wan,  _ consistently, _ and--

The comm console started beeping; an incoming transmission on one of the heavily-encrypted networks she and Obi-Wan and their friends had gradually built.

She accepted the call, and the transmission resolved into a familiar symbol.

Albeit one that almost  _ never _ contacted them directly, unscheduled like this. The situation on Mandalore, even now, remained far too precarious for that. Besides, even though Satine Kryze and her sister were two of the most visible leaders of resistance against Palpatine and his Empire--or maybe  _ because _ of that--she avoided direct contact with cells in other parts of the galaxy as much as possible.

For her to be reaching out like this, with no warning…

_ I have a bad feeling about this. _

“Lily,” she said. “This is Kestrel. What’s going on?”

“We have a problem,” she replied.

“How bad?”

“Bad,” she said, shortly. “It’s Intercept. We think he’s been arrested.”

Padme’s heart froze.

Her first thought was--Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had never told her the full story, but she  _ knew _ that he would drop anything and everything if Bail Organa needed him to.

Her second was…

“Veil,” she said. “Veil and--”

“They’re fine,” Satine assured her. “Thorn has the Princess, we’ve had that set up for ages, so it won’t raise any red flags.”

And Padme  _ pitied _ anyone who tried to get between Bo-Katan Kryze and someone she’d decided to protect.

“And Veil has plausible deniability, she always has,” she went on. “She’ll disavow him if she has to, though she hasn’t taken that step just yet. Besides, they won’t try anything directly against her. Not yet.”

“So we’ll worry about  _ yet _ later,” Padme said, relieved. “I’ll reach out to some of my contacts, too. See about contingencies--”

“We have that covered,” Satine interrupted. “Thorn is reaching out to Peregrine, she’s the one with expertise on this.”

Even better. Sabe would know what to do--she was so clever, at this kind of thing.

Because that was the  _ third _ thought--Bail had recruited so many people into their network. Obi-Wan, technically, Padme herself, Satine and Bo…

Bail had always been careful, of course. But even if the Empire technically couldn’t  _ prove _ anything against him, if he was interrogated, if they  _ broke _ him…

She couldn’t afford to think about that right now.

Instead, even though it wasn’t much better, she turned her focus back to the first problem. Obi-Wan trusted and admired Bail ahead of just about anyone, and the news that he was in danger would--Obi-Wan would take it  _ badly. _

Obviously, they’d have to rescue him. But if Satine or Sabe already had plans in place, she and Obi-Wan couldn’t interfere, muddy the waters, and just make things worse.

“Right,” Padme said. “Good call. Is this just...you know, when I tell him, he’s going to...”

“He’s going to do exactly what we want him to do,” Satine said. “None of us can--do what Ember can. Not just in terms of...but also in terms of how the two of you are positioned, and how you operate. If  _ anyone _ is to pull off a--a rescue attempt, it’s you. We just figured it was better for you all to find out this way. Maybe go into it with a little bit of planning.”

“He wouldn’t go into this without a plan,” Padme protested, but it sounded weak even to her, and Satine didn’t even bother to respond to that.

“But you’ll go get him?”

“Of course we will.”

_ “Thank _ you,” she said. “You can bring him here after you have him--you know how to be circumspect, and we can get him to a long-term safehouse from here.”

“Copy that,” Padme said. “Send me everything you got.”

“Sending,” she said. “...may the Force be with you. Lily out.”


	16. Chapter 16

Padme had never really been all that great at hiding things from Obi-Wan. Maybe it was the Force, and what Jedi training he’d had before the world had ended. Or maybe she was just that readable to the people she loved--she always had problems with Sabe, too.

“...what happened?” Obi-Wan asked, setting down his bag with a thunk.

Behind him, Anakin paused, his own bag of gear half-off his shoulder, and Ahsoka went still.

“I heard from Lily,” Padme said.

Obi-Wan blinked. “She and Thorn are--there wasn’t any word that there would be a move against Mandalore.”

“There wasn’t,” she said. “Not Mandalore. Alderaan.”

He stiffened a little, his face going blank.

“Is he alive?”

“As far as we know, yes.”

“Where is he?”

Padme handed him the datapad. “This is everything she could send me. I haven’t had much chance to go through it yet, and we’re waiting on more details from her and Peregrine and some of the others, but I don’t care what it takes, or what resources or bridges we have to burn to get there. We can do this. We  _ will _ do this.”

Bail would have to go into exile, on the run, like her, and it would be  _ awful _ because he--he still had a family to lose and…

But he would be  _ alive. _ She knew that. The Kryze sisters would protect him.

“I can handle it,” Obi-Wan said. “Dearest, I don’t want to--”

“I’m gonna stop you  _ right there,” _ she said, then softened, putting a hand on his arm. “I don’t pretend to understand what you went through, or what you feel you owe him. But he’s  _ my _ friend, too. And, more importantly, I am  _ not _ losing you because I stayed behind when I could help.”

Obi-Wan stared at her for a long moment, searchingly--haunted. “Padme…”

“You can’t do this by yourself,” she said. “And you  _ don’t have to.” _

Finally, finally, he nodded. “All right. All right.” He took her hand and squeezed it briefly.  _ “Thank _ you.” He took a shaky breath, then turned back to Anakin and Ahsoka. “This may be time-sensitive, so we’ll have to leave you here, but after we--”

“We’re coming too,” Anakin cut him off.

Ahsoka shot a look up at her brother, then nodded and turned to glower fiercely at Obi-Wan.

“Look, you need someone to break into places, I’m your guy. And Ahsoka fits into ventilation shafts, remember?” he went on, before Obi-Wan could actually object. “We may not have ever tried anything as complicated as a high-security Imperial prison, but we can do this. You  _ know _ we can. You’ve  _ seen _ our work. You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

“Face it, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka said. “You don’t get to do the noble lone-wolf Tragic Hero thing on this one. You’re stuck with us.”

“I can’t--”

“You took us in,” Anakin said. “You saved us, you’ve been teaching Ahsoka for  _ months, _ you gave me your valuable medical supplies, and--”

“You don’t  _ owe _ us for that,” Obi-Wan said.

“That...that came out wrong.” Anakin took a breath, and reached down for Ahsoka’s hand. “But...I meant...it’s not the way I used to think, maybe,” he said. “Not like--an exchange. Not like  _ payment. _ But you...you...you…”

“You made us a part of your lives,” Ahsoka said. “Good and bad. That means we help you when it’s bad. Just like you helped us. Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

“She has a point,” Padme said. She didn’t like this any more than Obi-Wan did--whatever skills Anakin and Ahsoka had...this was on a whole other level than any mission they’d been involved in so far. And if something happened to  _ either _ of them...

But Ahsoka was right. Even if...even if Anakin’s feelings were complicated, even if he didn’t feel about her and Obi-Wan the way the two of them felt about him, he  _ was _ their very dear friend now.  _ Both _ of them were.

And hitting the prison  _ would _ be a lot easier with a pair of experienced thieves on their side.

Obi-Wan hesitated for another moment, then abruptly hugged them--first Anakin, then Ahsoka--tight and hard and quick. “But I want you two to  _ promise me,” _ he said, “that if things go badly, if I tell you to, you make your way back to the ship and get out of there. All right?”

Anakin nodded, and Ahsoka said, “Sure,” before the two of them exchanged another one of their looks and dragged Obi-Wan back in for another hug.

Anakin reached out one hand, found Padme’s wrist, and pulled her close, too.

It felt  _ right. _ The four of them, like this. Whatever else happened--with the mission, with the mess building between her and Obi-Wan and Anakin--Padme  _ promised _ herself that she would find a way to keep them together. In whatever form their relationship might take.

The three of them were now her nearest and dearest--her  _ family _ \--and she owed them, and herself, that much.


	17. Chapter 17

Information came in quickly over the next few hours. Updates from Satine, from Sabe, from other sources throughout the galaxy.

Including, at last, more specific location data than in Satine’s initial report--the prison Bail was headed for, and the expected timeline.

Padme was staring at the data with utter dismay, and while Obi-Wan was trying to keep it off his face-- _ we will make it work, we  _ have _ to _ \--the simple fact was…

Bail was being taken to the Garden; an ISB black site that, despite its innocuous name, was whispered with crawling dread in insurgent circles. The only thing known about the place, other than its name, was its general location--somewhere on a planet formerly designated as a nature preserve, in Padme’s native Chommel sector--and even  _ that  _ scrap of knowledge had been dearly bought.

No one who was brought there  _ ever  _ emerged alive.

They could not extract Bail from the Garden. They simply did not have the resources. Even if he and Padme called in every favor they could, even if they borrowed personnel from Mandalore, brought in every bounty hunter and mercenary they could find…

It was not possible.

Padme took a deep breath. “What about…what about in transit?” she said, running a hand along Obi-Wan’s arm, comforting. “That has its own risks, obviously, and it’ll be heavily guarded, but…”

“Transit…might work,” he said. He took a breath to steady himself, an old exercise from his time in creche. The Force embraced him, smoothing away the raw edges of his worry and desperation. “We know approximately when and where Bail was taken. We know where he’s going. There are only certain routes they can take to get there.” He glanced up at Ahsoka and Anakin, on the other side of the table. “You can still back out. If you--”

“Not a chance,” Ahsoka said, firmly, and Anakin nodded.

“All right,” he said. “So. In transit. Have you two ever done anything like this before?”

“Not really,” Anakin admitted. “Well, once, technically, but most of the time, robbing a transport takes either an inside man or a bigger team.”

So much for expert advice. Obi-Wan and Padme  _ did _ have a few smuggler contacts who might be able to provide some tips of their own, but getting ahold of them in time…

No. They couldn’t afford any further delays. The four of them were on their own.

“All right,” Obi-Wan said. “So, we need two things--we need to find the best intercept point, and we need a plan for when we get there.”

“Here,” Ahsoka said, pointing at a spot on the star map. “…I think?” She looked up at him, uncertain.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, sank deeper into the Force, then slowly opened them and studied the star chart. At the edge of the primary hyperlane through that sector, near a young star cluster; only a few centuries old and still forming. “…yes,” he said. “They’ll have to drop out of hyperspace to get accurate enough data to chart their course past that cluster. And the disturbances and radiation coming from it should mask our approach. Good job.”

“Thanks,” she said, and gave him a pointed grin.

“We should beat them there,” Anakin said, studying the timetable. “We’re closer, and with the improvements I made to your hyperdrive, we can get there in about twelve hours.”

“Even better,” Obi-Wan said. “So. Plan.”

“Okay,” Padme said. She flipped through the data, pulling up the schematic of the ship Bail was to be moved in--a heavy freighter, armed and hypercapable. Not quite large enough to have any fighters it could deploy, but pretty close to that size. Probably used for transport of sensitive cargo between prison runs like this one. “The way I see it, there are a few things we need to accomplish.” She started ticking them off on her fingers. “First, we need to latch on to the ship and board it.”

Well, they may not have time to seek expert  _ advice _ from their pirate friends, but they  _ did _ have a few souvenirs left from the last time they’d met Hondo Ohnaka, just over a month before running into Anakin and Ahsoka.

“Hondo gave me a few things,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s a matter of timing once we get there, but between Ahsoka and I, we should be able to get a sense of that.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Okay,” Padme said. “So, that’s one down. Next, we need to keep the transport from escaping into hyperspace while we find Bail and extract him.”

“I believe one of the boarding devices Hondo gave me can help with that,” Obi-Wan said. “But if they have decent tech droids on board, they may be able to detach it and escape.”

“I can deal with that,” Anakin said. “Once we’re on, I’ll make my way to the bridge. As much time as I’ve spent fixing ships, I  _ know _ how to disable one.”

“Work quickly,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps one of us should go with you, you’re likely to meet resistance--”

Anakin shook his head. “Won’t most of the guards be wherever they’re keeping your friend?” he pointed out.

Along with any  _ other  _ prisoners--it  _ was _ possible that, given Bail’s relative value, this was a dedicated transport and he was the only one on board, but Obi-Wan couldn’t discount the possibility of more.

But they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

“Fair enough,” he said.

“Which is step three,” Padme said. “Actually  _ finding _ Bail. The ship isn’t  _ that _ big, but there’s only four of us, and especially if Anakin’s occupied on the bridge…”

“That’ll be recorded in the ship’s computers, right?” Ahsoka said. “I mean, we can probably narrow down the possibilities from here, based on the layout. And then maybe Anakin can guide us once he has control of the bridge?”

“In that case, we probably  _ should _ split up,” Obi-Wan said. “Ahsoka, you stick with Anakin. While he works on navigation and other systems, you dig through the ship’s log, find out exactly where they’re keeping him. Padme and I will make for the likeliest area, you’ll direct us from there.”

“Good call,” Anakin said. “Especially since, if our comms get jammed, that leaves Ahsoka free to find you and just  _ tell _ you, if I need to stay in the cockpit.”

“And like Ani said, I can fit through the air vents,” Ahsoka added. “So I can probably get to you pretty quickly and safely. Especially if I get a more detailed schematic once we’re in their system.”

His earlier doubts were receding. Now, beyond being a thing they  _ had _ to do, this rescue was genuinely starting to feel like something they  _ could _ do.

“And that just leaves steps four and five,” Padme said. “Getting Bail out of wherever he’s being held, and all of us getting back to the ship and away.”

“Step five we’ll probably have to play by ear,” Obi-Wan said. “Step four--” He considered. Anakin and Ahsoka probably had tools, of course, but depending on what kinds of locks the Empire had on the cells…

There was the box under his and Padme’s bed. Which, given the odds they were facing on this mission, he should probably open in  _ any _ case.

“I have a way,” he said. “But if we could borrow a set of lockpicks anyway, just in case, that would be helpful.”

“Sure,” Anakin said. “You can have mine, I’m gonna need different tools on the bridge anyway.”

“Then that’s settled,” Padme said. “If no one else has anything to add, I’ll go...I’ll go set the navicomputer.”

Ahsoka shook her head, and Anakin simply rested a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“I’ll run over the equipment Hondo left us,” Obi-Wan said. “Anakin, Ahsoka...prepare as needed. We’ll reconvene when we’re ready to board.”


	18. Chapter 18

They were on their last hyperspace jump before the ambush point. Anakin and Ahsoka were checking the ship schematics and their equipment one last time, and Padme was in the cockpit, monitoring the comms in case any new information, good or ill, came to them.

Obi-Wan, while they were all busy, slipped into his and Padme’s quarters, pulled out the storage bin from under their bed, and extracted a narrow metal box. The only thing on this ship that he kept locked away.

The lightsaber.

He closed his eyes and took a breath to center himself before placing his hand on the biometric lock--an extravagance, perhaps, but the blade inside was far too precious for anything else. He opened his eyes again when it clicked open, and took a moment to study the elegant, curved hilt inside before picking it up.

It was heavy; nearly as heavy as it had felt when it had been pressed into his hands, in exchange for a promise, at the edge of a maintenance tunnel while the Temple burned around them. The weight was something far more than physical; he had long since accepted that.

He let that weight settle over him for a moment, sinking into the Force; a light, near-meditative state that wasn’t quite trance.

Despite his worry, that in bringing Ahsoka into this kind of danger, he was failing at that deep-seated obligation to  _ protect _ the children who should have been Jedi--despite that, the hilt didn’t feel any heavier than the last time he’d brought it into battle. That was a comfort, of a sort.

He took another breath, and found the activator. The lightsaber ignited with a familiar  _ snap-hiss, _ casting eerie blue shadows around the room. He stood with care and made a few practice swings, getting his head and his hand wrapped around the half-familiar balance; the way the plasma caught on the air; the curved end of the pommel resting against his wrist.

It was still just a hair large for his hands--the man who had built it, while Human, had been taller and longer-limbed than Obi-Wan, with long fingers to match. But compared to the first time he had held it like this, it felt almost,  _ almost _ right.

Apart from maintenance checks, he had taken it out only a handful of times since it had been given to him twenty-five years ago, mostly when children like Ahsoka were in danger. He used a blaster in most other active combat situations--less conspicuous, for one thing--and preferred to use a weighted metal blade when running the few forms he remembered. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough to keep his skills sharp. And it felt--more appropriate.

But for Bail Organa…

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and remembered walking for what felt like eternity, following this same dim blue glow down the darkened tunnel, the sounds of the slaughter above eerily distant and muffled; and Bail waiting at the end, seventeen years old and nearly as terrified as Obi-Wan himself and the half-dozen toddlers with him had been, but still  _ there, _ and determined to help. In whatever way he could.

How could Obi-Wan  _ not _ do the same?

It may have been his imagination, though he liked to think it was the Force--or whatever trace of Master Dooku remained within it--supporting his choices, but Obi-Wan could’ve sworn the blade felt just a bit lighter at the thought.

A tap on the door interrupted him; he shut off the blade and the glow and the faint hum dissipated. “Yes?”

“We’re almost there,” Padme called.

Obi-Wan nodded, though she couldn’t see him, and clipped the hilt to his belt, across from his far more familiar blaster. “I’m coming,” he said. He glanced around the room one last time, to see if there was anything else in here he might need, then opened the door.

She reached up and rested a hand lightly against his cheek. “No last words,” she said.

He nodded, and gave the reply he knew she was waiting for. “No goodbyes.” He bent down to kiss her, and, with the hard-won skill born of three years of living and working together, set his love for her aside.

There was no place for it on a mission like this.

He straightened, and took half a step back, and he saw a matching glint of cool steel in her eyes.

“After you,” he said, softly, and she nodded once and turned to go.

He shut the door to their room behind him with a quick flick of his wrist, and went to join Anakin and Ahsoka at the airlock.

_ We’re coming, _ he promised Bail, as he walked, turning all his thoughts towards his friend and the task before him.  _ I am coming. I will not fail you. I promise. _


	19. Chapter 19

The  _ crunch _ as their ship, with its special grabbers borrowed from Obi-Wan’s pirate friend, bit into the prison transport’s hull and locked on was deafening. Beside Ahsoka, Anakin let out a slow breath. All of his usual tension had melted away into a laser-sharp  _ focus, _ the way he always got when they had a clear, immediate goal ahead of them.

Obi-Wan, positioned half a step in front of them, was at least outwardly calm, but Ahsoka thought she could feel something swirling beneath the surface. He had a lightsaber hilt in his right hand, hovering at his waist, ready to activate as soon as the breach was complete and they pried the airlock open.

Lightsabers, he had informed her and Anakin, could deflect blaster fire in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing. And Ahsoka trusted Obi-Wan to know what he was doing.

Padme came up to her other side. “Thirty seconds,” she said. “If Hondo’s specs are right, they can’t jump until we’re detached. One way or another. The breach is all automatic from here.”

“Right,” Ahsoka said.

“We’re ready,” Anakin agreed.

Obi-Wan just nodded.

Padme paused for a second, glancing ahead at him, then across Ahsoka at Anakin.

Anakin caught her eye, and Ahsoka felt that brief splash of  _ longing _ all over again, before he tamped it down.

“See you on the other side,” was all he said.

“Yes.” Padme smiled, a soft, shining smile that  _ definitely _ echoed everything spiraling out of Anakin; she reached forward and touched Obi-Wan’s wrist lightly, and there was an answering swell of  _ feeling _ out of him, even if it was muted by everything else going through his head, in perfect counterpoint with the other two.

And in that moment, a lot of little things Ahsoka had picked up from the two of  _ them  _ made a  _ whole _ lot more sense.

_ I can’t…I can’t  _ believe _ I didn’t notice that before, _ she thought. Yeah, her Force-senses were still developing, but she had  _ eyes. _ And montrals. It was all so  _ obvious _ now. And all this time Ani had spent pining…

She’d been reading this all wrong. It  _ wasn’t _ that Anakin was pining after people who could never love him back. It was that some sort of--somewhere along the line, the signals had gotten crossed. They didn’t know what he wanted, and he didn’t know what  _ they  _ wanted, and it was all just a big, stupid  _ mess _ and if she had put it together  _ any time but right now-- _

But then the hull let out another ear-splitting groan, and Ahsoka’s attention was immediately pulled away from the Humans’ drama. This wasn’t the time or place to fix it. But when this was all over, she’d  _ make  _ them sit down and talk.

“This is where the fun begins,” Anakin said, and she could  _ hear _ a familiar, half-feral grin in his voice. Enough to wash away anything else, other than the job ahead of them.

She gave a sharp, predatory smile of her own made sure her guns were ready. “Here we go,” she breathed.

“May the Force be with us all,” Obi-Wan murmured up ahead, and then, with one final groan, the breached airlock burst open.

They were immediately greeted by a hail of blaster bolts. As he’d promised, Obi-Wan sprang into action, the blade in his hand coming to life with a  _ snap-hiss _ that, for a split second, reminded Ahsoka of the deserted square and the Quarren’s iron grip on her wrist.

But only for a second.

The stormtroopers’ attention was immediately fixed on Obi-Wan, who was just barely keeping them at bay; for a moment, she hesitated, and Anakin did, too--Obi-Wan was their  _ friend, _ and that was the  _ rule, _ that they looked out for one another.

She dimly heard someone shout “Jedi!” over the general cacophony; Padme’s blaster answered him, a neat, precise shot.

“Go!” Padme shouted.

Anakin grabbed Ahsoka’s wrist and the two of them pelted down the corridor. Ahsoka kept firing shots behind them, felling the two stormtroopers who broke off from the rest of their unit in pursuit--

The transport ship, while bigger than their own, wasn’t  _ that _ big, and it took them maybe two minutes to fight their way through it, but it  _ felt _ much longer. Dodging and weaving and firing half-blindly at stormtroopers that seemed  _ endless. _

At least they knew the way. At least the doors to the bridge were pretty damn obvious when they finally rounded the last corner and came face to face with--

“Kriff,” Anakin hissed.

“Blast doors,” Ahsoka said grimly.

Anakin nodded, and studied first the lock, then the grate above it. “…how many inside, do you think?”

“Ummmm…” She closed her eyes and  _ concentrated. _ Most of what she picked up--both through the Force and through the vibrations dancing across her montrals--was the general chaos of a gunfight two levels down, clustered around Obi-Wan and Padme. And another handful of armed men heading their way;  _ that  _ wasn’t good. But  _ behind  _ the door…

“Three,” she finally said, opening her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“…if you can handle three by yourself, that’s faster than one of us slicing the lock,” he said, nodding up at the ceiling.

_ And it makes it harder for the bad guys to follow us in, _ she added silently. “I can take ‘em,” she said.

“All right.” He holstered his blaster and knelt down. “Work fast.”

“I always do,” she said. She balanced on his shoulders, tapping his head lightly when she was steady enough for him to stand and retrieve his weapon, and got to work unscrewing the vent cover.

Anakin shifted underneath her as those armed men came around the corner, but she was used to that, and she already had two of the four screws out. She ignored the exchange of blasterfire underneath her, focused on not falling and trusting Anakin to protect her; she felt one bolt graze her right hip, and then the grate came loose and she launched herself up.

It was a tighter fit than she’d been hoping, but still nothing she couldn’t handle. She felt the heat of another bolt pass by her boot just as she yanked it up; but this one, fortunately, missed. She paused for a split second to check her injury--it stung, but not much worse than a bad scrape. She’d be fine.

She crawled a few feet down the shaft to the next grate; she could hear panicked voices through it.

_ “My lord, we’re under attack. No, I’m not sure how many, and the guards on the prisoners aren’t responding--” _

Prisoners, plural. That…could complicate things.

She could hear a response, faint, like it was coming out of a speaker. She couldn’t make out the words.

But none of that was her problem. Yet.

Ahsoka shifted position and kicked the grate out--they  _ always _ came free more easily from this side--and dropped through, firing into the blank space opened up by their few seconds of surprise.

Three soldiers on duty, as she’d expected. One, the man she’d heard, was on what was probably the comm station, talking to a hologram of an impatient-looking Zabrak. A second on the main console, and the third already heading her way.

She placed her shots with care and was glad she had both her guns with her; the man on the move and the woman at the console slumped over.

She turned to deal with the man on comms, only to see him scrambling to flip switches before the end came. The hologram fizzled out and he brought his own sidearm to bear on her--

A second too late.

Her shot was true; a neat hole appeared between his eyes and he fell backwards.

She let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t  _ like _ killing people, even if they were trying to kill her, but if she  _ had _ to--better for it to be neat and quick like that. She  _ hated _ making people suffer.

But there was really no time to think about that.

She darted over to the door, bashed at the controls until they opened.

Anakin staggered backwards through it, still firing; there were three dead stormtroopers in front of him, two more shooting from behind cover about a dozen meters down the hallway, and one last one wounded but still struggling towards them.

“Shut it!” Anakin gasped out, as soon as he was through. There was a tightness to his voice that she  _ did not like _ but first things first.

She slammed the blast doors shut, then put four blaster bolts into the controls. “That’ll hold them off for a while.”  _ I hope. _

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a short, sharp breath.

And she got a closer look at him, and saw the charred mess of his right knee, and hissed a little.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Anakin said. “No, really. I mean, I’m not gonna be running anywhere for awhile, but I’ll live.” He wobbled towards the main console; his right leg did  _ not _ want to take any of his weight.

Without asking, Ahsoka slid under his arm to help him.

The ship rocked a little.

“…we’re not--we can’t be detaching, right?” Ahsoka asked. “Even if--even if they had an astromech or whatever to send out there--”

Anakin shook his head, and pulled his arm off her shoulders. “Get on one of the computers, find out where the Senator is. I’ll deal with this.” He staggered a few more steps, managing to make it over to the primary console without falling. He shoved the soldier out of her chair and claimed it, setting his blaster down, then got to work.

It didn’t take long for Ahsoka to slice into the ship’s manifest.

“It’s all coded,” she said. “There’s...there’s seven names on this list, I think.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin said. “We know what we’re after, and I’m sure--I’m sure O--Ember and Kestrel thought of that. We just need to know  _ where.” _

“Uh.” She scanned the files. “Got it. I know--”

“Oh,  _ kriff,” _ Anakin interrupted her.

“What?” she asked, her heart sinking.

“There’s--a failsafe, a-a self-destruct, I think,” he said. “One of them must’ve triggered it.”

_ Kriff. Kriff, kriff, kriff--  _ “How much time?” They could still pull this off. They  _ had _ to, they just needed...they just needed  _ time... _

“Twenty minutes, on the base timer,” he said, grimly. “I can--I can stretch it. Not by much, but enough. It’ll be enough. Call the others, let them know.”

“Right,” she said, and reached for her comm, punching hitting the hardcoded button to reach Padme.

Static.

She stared at the console in front of her, checking the switch configurations and--

“Ahsoka?” Anakin said.

“We’re jammed,” she said. She could tell  _ that _ much. But figuring out how to  _ unjam _ their signals, without screwing with what Anakin was working on--

There wasn’t time.

He took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “Go--go find the others. Get the prisoners out. I’ll stay here, delay the self-destruct as long as I can.  _ Maybe  _ shut it off, but I don’t think I can do much more than double our window. But you gotta  _ go, _ Snips.”

“Yeah,” she said, then eyed the open vent above her. It was too high to jump.  _ Damn it. _

She was  _ not _ going to let Anakin help her, not when he could barely stand. The last thing he needed was to try and hold her up, too, even if it was just for a second. Besides, he needed to stay where he was, if  _ any _ of them were getting out of this in one piece.

_ At least I already got the grate off, _ she thought.  _ Makes life easier. _

Unfortunately, the consoles were all bolted down, and she wasn’t sure the chairs would be tall  or stable enough for her to jump from. But--wait. Obi-Wan had mentioned, at some point, that the Jedi of old could use the Force to jump higher, or run faster. She’d never done it before, but it was worth a try before she risked one of the chairs.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, just like when she and Obi-Wan were settling in for meditation practice. She stretched out with her senses, felt for the edges of the opening so she knew where to aim and  _ jumped. _

She just  _ barely _ made it--her outstretched hands connected with the edge of the vent--and hauled herself the rest of the way in. She banged her shin on the edge and swore under her breath.

“You good?” Anakin called from below her.

“I’m good,” she said, checking the damage.  _ Just bruised, I think. I’ll be fine. _

“Good,” he said. “Ahsoka?”

“Yeah?” She poked her head back through the hole.

“…see you on the other side, okay?” he said.

She nodded. “See you on the other side,” she promised, then pulled herself back into the duct and began crawling as fast as she could.


	20. Chapter 20

“Okay,” Padme said, as she tied off the bandage around Obi-Wan’s left forearm, where a stray blaster bolt had gotten past his guard. “I think that’ll hold. You sure you’re okay?”

He nodded, flexing his hand carefully. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” He reached up and brushed her cheek lightly. “You’re still…?”

“I haven’t been hit,” she assured him, catching his hand and squeezing it, then standing up and pulling him with her. “Which way now?”

Obi-Wan frowned, and was about to answer when he was interrupted by a faint noise coming from the ceiling.

Padme immediately brought her pistol to bear, eyes narrowing as she tracked the sound and tried to gauge her shot, but then Obi-Wan caught her wrist.

“Ahsoka,” he murmured.

She nodded, and lowered her arm, just as the grate about a meter ahead of them came free and fell to the floor with a clang, followed half a second later by their friend.

Ahsoka landed in a crouch, then straightened up. It was a little hard to tell at a glance, but Padme thought she looked all right, which was a relief.

“Did you find him?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Them,” Ahsoka corrected. “There’s seven prisoners on the ship, and the only data I could find without deeper slicing and a decrypt module was ID numbers.”

“They’re probably other political prisoners,” Padme said. “On this transport…”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan said, and she could see the wheels turning in his head, but she was pretty sure she knew what conclusion he’d come to.

_ We can’t leave them behind, _ she thought.  _ Maybe if they were  _ actual _ criminals--murderers, or some other threat to us and our ship…but they wouldn’t be heading to the Garden if they were. _

True,  _ some _ of them might be high-placed members of various syndicates, but if ISB wanted their hands on  _ those _ types, they were usually routed to someplace other than the Garden. Besides, they had almost as many friendly contacts in the underworld as otherwise--they wouldn’t have been able to complete this mission at  _ all _ without Obi-Wan’s long-standing friendship with a notorious pirate, after all.

The risk was small enough, and the benefit to helping them  _ large _ enough, that Padme thought they should try to get all seven out, if at all possible. It would be tight quarters, squeezing eleven people onto their own not-very-large ship, but the plan was to make contact with Mandalore quickly to pass Bail along, anyway. They’d manage.

Of course, depending on what--what  _ condition _ the prisoners were in, transferring these seven beings to their ship might be hard. And time-consuming. And compromise their escape, and their original mission.

_ We’ll just have to risk it. _

Obi-Wan glanced back at her for confirmation, and she nodded once.

“All right,” he said, turning back to Ahsoka. “We’ll make it work.”

“Got it,” she said. “…there’s another problem, though.”

“What?”

“One of the pilots started a self-destruct sequence,” she said. “Ani’s gonna do what he can to reverse or delay it, but he said not to count on more than forty minutes or so.”

Obi-Wan nodded, grimly. “We will make it work,” he repeated. “Padme--”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. Because sending her back to get the ship ready to leave the  _ instant _ everyone was on board did made strategic sense.

Except--

Even if it wasn’t serious, Obi-Wan  _ was _ hurt; down to one good arm. Depending on how much help the prisoners needed, there was a damn good chance he and Ahsoka would need her  _ there _ even more.

He read the answer in her face, and nodded. “All right. Then we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Follow me,” she said, and darted off down the hallway, ready with her guns.

It was more brutal, ugly work, fighting their way through the ship, but they made it without anyone else getting shot; though Padme had had a near-miss before Ahsoka yanked her back under cover at the last second.

_ Closer than I’ve been in a while, _ she thought, nodding her thanks briefly as they pressed on.

At last, they paused at one final door, not too far from the primary sublight thrusters.

“Should be here,” Ahsoka whispered. “In the next hold. But…” She frowned a little.

Obi-Wan glanced at her, then deactivated his lightsaber and closed his eyes. Padme held her breath, not wanting to distract them, and trying  _ so _ hard to ignore the clock ticking in the back of her mind.  _ Forty minutes, maybe less, Ahsoka said. How long has it been now? _

“Not stormtroopers,” Obi-Wan finally said, opening his eyes. “Not Inquisitors either, but still a step above.”

Padme nodded. “How do you want to play this?”

“Ahsoka, stay back here. If you have a shot, take it.”

“Got it.”

“Padme--follow my lead.”

Padme checked her gun--she was down to her last power pack, with only enough charge for about seven shots.

_ It’ll be enough, if I don’t waste them, _ she thought.

Obi-Wan was already moving, and she slipped into his shadow as he rounded the corner.

The door was guarded by a four soldiers in shining black armor.

Death troopers.

_ A cut above is right, _ she thought grimly, and then the chaos started.

The lightsaber sprang to life again, and the two of them split; she went right, trying to draw the fire of at least one of the guards. Make it a little bit easier on him.

Obi-Wan went straight ahead, ducking and weaving and blocking the blasts as best he could, closing the distance between himself and the troopers to where his weapon could come into play offensively.

_ There! _

Padme let off one of her precious charges, hitting the one trooper who  _ had _ stayed on her squarely in the center of his breastplate, just as Obi-Wan slashed through a second trooper’s abdomen, nearly cleaving him in two.

He dodged to one side, avoiding a shot to his head by a hair, and Padme dropped flat, hearing the distinctive sound of Ahsoka’s pistols firing behind her.

_ Three down. _

Obi-Wan came back swinging, but the fourth trooper was better than his fellows, keeping Obi-Wan entirely occupied with defense, not giving him an opening.

But  _ Padme _ was a little luckier--she couldn’t make a clean kill, no, but she focused, lined up her shot, and just  _ barely _ missed grazing Obi-Wan to score a solid hit on the trooper’s shoulder.

Ahsoka followed that up with a shot of her own, as Obi-Wan spun to bring his blade to bear, and Padme honestly couldn’t have said which of them finally took him down.

She picked herself up off the floor. “You okay?” she asked.

Obi-Wan flexed his wounded hand again, and nodded. “That was close.”

“I had the shot.”

He smiled briefly. “I know.”

She smiled back, as Ahsoka slipped up behind them, then let it fade, returning to the business at hand. “Door?” she said.

“Right,” he said, then studied the lock before just hacking it off with his lightsaber.

_ Faster than trying to pick it, _ she thought, though he usually preferred not to use the weapon for anything that mundane.

He deactivated it, but kept it ready in his good hand as he cautiously stepped through the broken door.

There were, to Padme’s relief, no more guards on the inside.

But, sure enough, a row of nine small detention cells had been set up in the hold, right at the back of the ship beside the maintenance access for the engines.

This close, Padme could hear the whining and feel the  _ heat _ leaking off the distressed engines.

Beside her, Ahsoka swallowed. “Anakin’s taking care of it,” she said.

She exchanged a look with Obi-Wan.  _ We’ve probably spent a good five or six minutes getting here, not to mention whatever time it took Ahsoka to find us after leaving the bridge... _

“We’d better move fast,” she said.

Obi-Wan nodded, and headed for the first cell, studying it for a moment before deciding, once again, to simply cut the lock.

“Ahsoka,” Padme said. “How many shots do you have left?”

“I’m still pretty good,” she said. “I’ve got a full spare power pack left.”

“Good,” she said. “Did Anakin teach you how to drive?”

“Sure?” Ahsoka said. “When he was teaching me how to fix engines. …you think I should go get the ship ready?”

She nodded. The same thought Obi-Wan had had before, but now that they were here and had a better idea of what they were dealing with, the situation had changed.

“Once we cut everyone free, go ahead of us with whoever’s mobile enough to move on their own. Obi-Wan and I will protect the stragglers.”

At this point, now that they no longer needed Ahsoka as a guide, it could really be either of them who went back with that first wave. But there were two reasons to send Ahsoka instead of going herself.

First, Padme might be a familiar face--a  _ known _ insurgent--if only from wanted posters, while Ahsoka was guaranteed to be a stranger. With skittish prisoners who had already been through unknown horrors on their way here, that might make all the difference.

Second, if half of the prisoners had to head back with only one escort, it was  _ much _ better to send the one who had more than five shots left.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said.

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber had made quick work of that first lock, and he moved on to the next cell, and the next.

Padme and Ahsoka followed, half a step behind, to haul the unlocked doors open and see to the prisoners inside. There was one in each cell, just as Ahsoka’s intel from the command center had said--two Humans, a Wookiee, a Besalisk, a Rodian, a Twi’Lek, and, in the seventh cell--

“Obi-Wan,” Bail said, sounding weary, relieved, a little surprised, but not in too much pain.

_ Thank the Force, _ Padme thought.

“Lily told us you were in trouble,” Obi-Wan said, as the hum of his lightsaber abruptly stopped. “How could I not come?”

“Thank you,” Bail said softly, and there were entire galaxies carried on those two words. He stepped out of the cell under his own power, straight and steady and clear-eyed, then paused, frowning. “…the engines--”

“We’re aware,” Obi-Wan assured him. “A friend of ours is working on it. But we should move quickly.”

Padme considered the rest of the prisoners--one of the two other Humans clearly couldn’t walk on her own; her leg was badly broken. The Twi’Lek looked dazed and his left lekku was swollen; probably concussed, should not be left to his own devices. The Rodian didn’t have any obvious, visible injuries, but seemed unable to stand unsupported for very long. The other three, though, would probably make it.

And, fortunately, Bail was all right; so even without Ahsoka’s help, they’d be able to get everyone out.

“We have a ship,” Padme told them. “And we are going to get everyone onto it and away from here, to safety. I promise.”

“Thank you, milady,” the second Human said.  _ “Thank _ you. We had…we had given up any hope of rescue, when we figured out where we were going…” He reached for--and found--one of the Besalisk’s hands.

“Well, we’re here now,” she said, and smiled. “But we do need to move quickly. You, and you, and you--” rude, to point like that, but she didn’t know their names and the heat from the engines was getting more intense by the second “--go with Ahsoka. She’ll get you safely to our ship and make ready to detach as soon as the rest of us arrive.”

“This way,” Ahsoka said. “Stay as close to me as you can. …are any of you any good with a blaster? I have an extra…”

Her voice trailed off as she and her party got moving down the hall, away from the cells.

Padme approached the Twi’Lek--while he probably should be guided, he seemed able to walk on his own, and she was less able than Bail or Obi-Wan to outright carry a full-grown adult--and smiled at him and offered her hand. “My name is Padme,” she said, softly. “I’m going to help you, all right? Can you try and focus on me?”

He blinked hazily at her. “Yes,” he said, a little slurred, and accepted her hand.

“Stay close, okay?”

“Will.”

Bail spoke softly to the Human woman, then carefully picked her up. She yelped when her leg was moved, then went limp; probably unconscious.

Obi-Wan, after a moment, had simply dragged the Rodian’s arm over his shoulder, half-supporting him with his uninjured arm; which left Padme the only one with a free hand.

“Padme,” he said, softly, probably having realized the same thing.

She nodded, and took his blaster out of its holster, securing it in her belt for when her own power pack ran out.

_ Hopefully, between our trip down here and Ahsoka’s back up, we won’t run into too many guards… _

She swallowed back the anxiety. “Let’s go,” she said, and started down the hallway without waiting for them to respond.


	21. Chapter 21

Ahsoka got her passengers back to the ship as fast as she could. Going through the main halls, instead of the vents, she could see all the damage Obi-Wan and Padme and the stormtroopers had done--blaster burns in the walls, charred gouge marks in the ceiling…

At least they didn’t run into a whole lot of trouble. Only a handful of stormtroopers, trying to get to the escape pods when the alarms for the self-destruct  _ finally _ started blaring.

“Stay here,” she said, once she let them into the main hold. “I’m gonna start prepping. Padme and Obi-Wan and the others should be right behind us.”

Anakin--Anakin wasn’t back yet, she knew that as  _ soon _ as she set foot on board. Probably still working in the cockpit. But he was hurt, so he’d have to budget extra time to get back here--

_ Maybe he went to meet Padme and Obi-Wan instead, _ she thought. It  _ was _ just the kind of stupid thing Anakin would do, especially if he didn’t know they’d separated.  _ And that’s why the alarm finally went off. He did everything he could, then stopped fighting it and went to make sure we all got back okay. _

Yeah. Yeah, that made  _ total _ sense. She’d have to yell at him when he finally  _ did _ get back, though, because he was  _ hurt _ and he should’ve just gone straight back to base. Like she’d told him the  _ last _ time he’d pushed too hard and almost gotten himself killed, a year or so ago.

She let out a slow breath, took a quick look around the hold to make sure her three new friends were all there and as settled as she could, passed her pistol to the Wookiee--who was the best shot of the three of them--then darted to the cockpit to get everything ready to detach.

_ I can rig a remote, I think, _ she told herself on the way.  _ For breaking the connection, at least. That way, I can wait in the hold instead of having to hang out up there and not  _ know _ when they’re back. _

With that in mind, she made a quick, five-second pit stop by her and Anakin’s room, snatching up her toolkit so she could get it built and programmed.

It took her just over a minute to flip all the right switches; they’d left the engines in standby mode so powering them up only took about fifteen seconds. The ship hummed around her, ready to move and disappear into hyperspace as soon as the others were on board and they could get clear.

Another two and a half minutes to rig her remote, then she left the cockpit and headed back down to the hold.

The Besalisk had found their water supplies and was sharing it with the others. When he gave her a questioning look, she just nodded, but waved away a drink of her own.

The Wookiee, positioned by the door, rumbled something she half-understood in Shyriiwook before passing her back her blaster. She smiled briefly at him, then took a post of her own on the other side. She doubted there were too many stormtroopers  _ left _ to come after them, or they probably would’ve had to clear them out of here already, but better safe than sorry.

Forty-five seconds ticked by, and she kept her hand steady, her gun trained on the door, and she  _ finally _ heard footsteps.

_...not boots, not soldiers. _ She nodded at the Wookiee, who stood down as well, just as Senator Organa came through the hatch, carrying the unconscious Human girl with the broken leg.

“There’s a little medbay,” she said, and pointed. “We don’t have a droid or anything, but you can at least give her painkillers.”

The Senator nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and headed that way.

Padme was right behind him, guiding the disoriented Twi’Lek, who she settled against the wall--there wasn’t a whole lot of room in the medbay. The Besalisk and his Human friend drifted over to take over monitoring him.

“Any problems?” Padme asked.

Ahsoka shook her head. “We’re all set. Course is programmed and everything, and I rigged a remote.”

“Good,” she replied, with a weary smile, then stepped aside to let Obi-Wan through.

He gave her a brief nod, then took a quick look around the hold.

“...where’s Anakin?” he asked, setting the Rodian gently down.

Ahsoka froze. _ No. No, no, no, no, no, he’s supposed to be--he  _ has _ to be--  _ “I thought he was with you.” Her voice cracked a little.

Padme’s face went white, as Obi-Wan promptly turned back to head out into the prison transport once more.

“Obi-Wan--” she started.

“Stay with the prisoners,” he said, reigniting the lightsaber.

_ “Obi-Wan--” _

He was already gone.

Padme checked her pistol, then the second one--Obi-Wan’s--she had tucked into her waistband, and grimaced faintly, but turned to follow him anyway. “Stay here, Ahsoka.”

“But--”

“Ahsoka,  _ please,” _ she said, sounding strained and terrified. “Stay with our guests.  _ Protect  _ them. Be ready to take off. If we’re not back in ten minutes…be ready.”

Ahsoka swallowed. “Padme…”

“Stay  _ here,” _ she said.

Everything in Ahsoka wanted to disobey. Wanted to shove past her--stun her if she had to--and go to rescue her brother.

But she couldn’t--think right now. And something, something, that little voice that Obi-Wan kept  _ telling _ her to listen to, whispered,  _ they have this, let them do what they do best. _

She could feel herself start to cry, which meant that stupid little voice was probably  _ right _ because if she  _ went _ she’d just be panicking because Anakin--and she couldn’t  _ help him _ that way. Padme and Obi-Wan--Padme and Obi-Wan  _ knew _ how to shut it all down, lock it away when under stress. She and Anakin had never really  _ had _ to learn that before, and...and…

Here, she had seven people who needed her protection, and a ship to run. Here, she had enough to distract herself that she wouldn’t fall apart or be in the way.

And they would--they would bring him back. They  _ had to. _

Wordless, she handed Padme her pistol. Still half-charged.

Padme bowed her head and accepted it, then pelted off after her lover.

Ahsoka took a deep, shaky breath, wiped off the tears, and steeled herself before going to check on the two remaining injured prisoners.

It wasn’t until later, when she noticed the bruises on her hand, that she realized how tight she’d held on to the damn remote.


	22. Chapter 22

The command deck was in shambles; a mass of wires and disassembled paneling that Anakin had taken apart to gain hard access to as many of the ship’s systems as he could. Through the main console, through the floor, through the walls--he tried everything he could think of. He was starting to run out of ideas, and time, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He just focused on the task at hand, working his way through what was left of the bridge. He couldn’t shut down the self-destruct sequence--he’d  _ tried, _ no one could say he hadn’t  _ tried _ \--but he’d managed to delay it. A few seconds here, a few seconds there, short out  _ just _ the right circuit at  _ just _ the right time and he’d buy enough time for the others to get clear of the blast radius.

Of course,  _ he _ wouldn’t be able to get back to the ship in time, but he’d known that from the moment he saw the self-destruct. It had only taken a couple seconds to add up all the things he’d have to do to delay it long enough for the mission to succeed, and how fast he could move with his knee shot out from under him, and see how this ended.

But the others would be make it. He’d even--he’d even gotten a chance to say goodbye to Ahsoka, even if he was pretty sure she hadn’t realized that’s what he was saying in the moment. She would figure it out later. She was smart enough for that--smarter than him, for sure.

She’d probably never forgive him for this, but she’d be  _ safe. _ So would Obi-Wan and Padme, which was almost as important. And they’d get the prisoners out, and it would be…it would be okay. It was going to be okay.

Someone was coming.

He spun around unsteadily, keeping as much weight off his wounded leg as possible, bringing his blaster to bear on--

_ “Anakin!” _ Obi-Wan called; Padme, a step behind him, was shooting at someone in pursuit.

“What--what are you--” He dropped his gun, his head spinning. “No, no, you have to  _ go, _ this thing isn’t--there’s only a couple minutes, we’re almost out of time, I could only delay the timer a little bit, the ship’s gone, it’s gone, what are you  _ doing _ here, you have to  _ go!” _

“We’re not leaving without you,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, with conviction.

“No--”

“We’re not,” Padme echoed, stepping into the room behind Obi-Wan. Her back was still to him; she kept her eyes and her blaster pointed into the hallway, covering them. No, wait, that was  _ Ahsoka’s _ blaster, Anakin knew it just as well as his own; for a moment he started to panic, but—but he would  _ know _ if something had happened to her, right? Padme must’ve just borrowed it.

Still--

“Ahsoka?” he whispered.

“She’s safe,” Obi-Wan assured him. “Back on the ship, with the others.”

He slumped against the console a little, relieved.

“Waiting for us to find you so we can leave,” Padme added.

Which was--even if a tiny part of his heart sang at the thought that he mattered that much to them…

“There’s no  _ time,” _ he said, his voice cracking. “We’re…we’re down to five minutes,  _ maybe _ I can stretch it to seven if I keep working, but if I…if you…I’ll--I’ll just--I’ll slow you down.”

“We’ll  _ help _ you,” she said.

He shook his head, rapidly. “No, no, you don’t have to--it’s okay,” Anakin said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “It’s okay, you don’t have time, please, just…just go. Look after--l-look after Ahsoka for me, okay? She’s--I mean, you know her, sh-she’s so brave and smart and strong but she’s…it’s been just us for so long a-and I--”

“Hush,” Obi-Wan said. “There’ll be even  _ less _ time if you keep arguing.” He frowned a little; the hairs on the back of Anakin’s neck stood up the way they always did, when he and Ahsoka got deep into one of their lessons or meditation sessions or whatever, and he started picking his way across the uneven floor.

No, no, no, this was exactly what he  _ didn’t _ want, to hurt them, to get between them, to  _ ruin things _ for them, but they wouldn’t--they wouldn’t  _ listen, _ because they were kind and wonderful people who would…who would walk across a dying ship, inches from explosion, just to rescue  _ him _ and if he  _ wanted _ to read into that it would be  _ so easy _ and…and he was going to die here anyway, so maybe…maybe…

_ No. Stop it. Not for you. _

“I love you,” he blurted, before he could stop himself.

_ Kriff. Kriffing hell, how could you be so  _ stupid _ now you’ve  _ really _ ruined it because  _ that’s _ going to be in their heads forever and-- _

Obi-Wan stopped short, staring at him, then glanced back at Padme, then back at him.

Padme had frozen as well, half-turning back into the room; but she was--she was so  _ good _ at this, at what she and Obi-Wan did, that she kept one eye and her blaster trained out on the hall just in case and Anakin thought his heart would burst.

They really had thought of everything. Except their  _ own _ survival.

“Ani,” she breathed. “Oh, Ani…”

“I love you,” he said, because it was too late to take it back and he’d never get another chance. “I think…I think I have since we met, a-and I know I shouldn’t--shouldn’t have--I didn’t want to--you two have each other, and you’re so  _ perfect _ together, and I…” He was crying now. “I want you to be happy,” he managed. “So…so you two should…you have to  _ go, _ a-and be happy, and…and…”

The ship rocked again. Obi-Wan kept his feet with ease, but Padme’s free hand shot out to brace herself against the doorway.

“Can you honestly think,” Obi-Wan said softly, “that it would be that simple? That you mean so little to us, after all this time?”

It hurt. It  _ hurt _ to hear him say that, in a way that Anakin couldn’t quite explain.

“I…” he said. “I don’t want to…to be in the way.”

“That will never happen,” Padme said.

“I…” he started again, but the words stuck in his throat.

“Anakin--” she started, and then everything went suddenly, horribly  _ wrong. _

It was like slow motion.

Anakin saw the sparks start flying from the comm console--it was the least damaged of the three in here, but somehow  _ that _ was what was going to explode first. And Obi-Wan was standing right next to it, right in range of the debris Anakin  _ knew _ was coming, but he somehow  _ hadn’t _ seen it, or was too focused on Anakin.

And there was nothing-- _ nothing _ Anakin could do, he was too far away; he would never make it, he would  _ never _ make it, even if he  _ hadn’t _ been hurt, but he had to  _ warn him-- _

“Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a hair. He started to move backward but it was too late, Anakin  _ knew _ it was too late.

It was instinct, maybe. Anakin held out his hands as if that alone would be enough to keep the explosion back and save his friend; even though he knew it wouldn’t work--couldn’t  _ possibly _ work--

Until it did.

Anakin stared at what was left of the comm console, the debris floating in midair maybe ten centimeters away from Obi-Wan’s head.

“What…?”

Obi-Wan turned to him. “Anakin?”

And suddenly, a lot of things made sense--the way he sometimes just  _ knew _ things, those same instincts he and Ahsoka had depended on for  _ years; _ the weird feeling he got when he spent too much time around her and Obi-Wan while they were practicing…

“Oh,” he said.

Right on cue, the ship rocked again. Anakin couldn’t hold on to both the floating debris and his balance at the same time, so he lost both; he dimly heard the pieces of the console hit the deck as he stumbled and went down on one knee.

His right knee.

His  _ wrong _ knee.

He yelped and almost passed out from the pain; the whole world went grey around the edges. The next thing he knew, Obi-Wan was under his arm and hauling him upright again.

“Come on, time to go,” Obi-Wan said, right in his ear, and he couldn’t focus enough to argue anymore.

He thought he heard Padme say something from the doorway, and then they were moving. He fought to stay conscious, to keep up; everything was foggy with pain and confusion and it was all too much, too much was happening and he still didn’t understand half of it.

He just barely registered when they hit the familiar deck of their own ship, and then everything went dark.


	23. Chapter 23

The four of them were squeezed into the cockpit; Padme and Obi-Wan’s ship really wasn’t set up to host half a dozen recently-liberated political prisoners in addition to its four regular full-time residents. Still, it was only temporary--Padme had been in touch with Satine again, and they were on their way to Mandalore to drop off their passengers to safely disappear among their network of resistance contacts.

Besides, even if it was a little cramped and uncomfortable, they were all alive, and  _ together, _ which was by far the more important thing.

Anakin, being injured, was settled in the less-uncomfortable copilot’s chair, still out cold; Ahsoka was perched on the instrument panel next to him, leaning against the bulkhead with her eyes closed, but Padme thought she was still awake, just drifting. It reminded her, a little bit, of when they’d first met; especially since Obi-Wan was right where he had been all those months ago, in the pilot’s chair, contemplating the swirl of hyperspace out the viewport. And it was nice, for a moment, that tinge of fond nostalgia--although she hoped that it wasn’t going to become a  _ pattern. _ Anakin doing something reckless to protect one or more of them, and Ahsoka hovering over him in the aftermath.

But that was a problem for another day. They were still a few hours out from Mandalore, and the various beings squeezed into the ship had more or less settled down, leaving things quiet apart from the distant hum of the engines.

No sooner had she thought that then Anakin stirred at last; Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both took notice. Padme caught a brief smile from her partner, and Ahsoka opened her eyes and sat up a little straighter.

“Welcome back,” Ahsoka said.

“Mm,” Anakin said, sitting up a little straighter and opening his own eyes. He took in the cockpit at a glance, and relaxed a little. “We made it,” he said.

“We did,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

“And...and everyone’s okay?”

“Mostly,” Padme said. “Some of our guests are a little battered, but no one’s critical.” Even the Twi’Lek had been a little more lucid, last time she’d checked in with him.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, as she hopped down off the panel to hug her brother close. “I mean, you’re not the  _ worst _ off, but you’re up there. For, you know, perspective.”

“Good,” he said. “That’s…that’s really good.”

“Yep,” she said, then pulled back and smacked his shoulder gently before adding something in Huttese.

While Padme’s Huttese  _ had _ gotten a lot better since she and Obi-Wan had started working together in the Outer Rim, she was far from fluent. Still, even given her less-than-perfect comprehension and the fact that the dialect Anakin and Ahsoka spoke was even  _ less _ familiar, she could figure out the gist of what they were saying.

_ “Don’t  _ ever _ do that again.” _

Anakin laughed a little.  _ “I can’t promise that.” _

She glared at him.  _ “I was  _ worried,  _ you--” _ Followed by something that might have been either an endearment or an insult or both. Knowing Anakin and Ahsoka--and given the look on Obi-Wan’s face; his Huttese was  _ much _ better than Padme’s--it was probably both.

He sighed, and half-hugged her.  _ “I’ll try. I’m sorry.” _

_ “Good.” _ She hugged him back, tight enough that it probably wasn’t all that comfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind.

There was a brief silence, while the two of them clung to one another, then Ahsoka pulled away again. She glanced from Anakin, to Padme, to Obi-Wan, and back again; and Padme could’ve  _ sworn _ she saw her montrals twitching just a little.

“Something wrong?” Obi-Wan asked, arching one eyebrow.

“Nope,” she said, and stretched. “I’m gonna go check on our passengers. See if anyone needs anything, and stuff.” She shot Anakin a look that was probably supposed to be significant, which made him turn red, then headed out the door, nudging his shoulder a little as she went.

_ …are we really that obvious? _ Padme thought, staring after her.  _ Well, baby Jedi, I suppose. And she knows  _ Anakin  _ so well… _

Still, it was a little embarrassing. Okay, a  _ lot _ embarrassing. She was probably blushing, too.

Another silence stretched between them, this one slightly awkward, but fraught with--tension.

Anakin was finally the one to break it.

He cleared his throat. “Um. About…before,” he said. “I…back there, I said some things, and…” He trailed off, uncertain.

“Right,” Obi-Wan said. “Listen, Anakin, if you’re not…we won’t hold you to that.”

“…oh.” He deflated, visibly, his hands stealing up his sleeves like they always did when he was nervous; then he took a breath as if to steady himself, and forced himself to sit up a little straighter. “I mean, yeah, of course, if that’s what you--I mean, I thought I was gonna  _ die, _ so it’s not like--”

“That…that came out wrong,” Obi-Wan interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What I  _ meant _ to say was…” He looked to Padme, pleadingly.

“What we meant was,” she took over, “we’ve…we’ve thought about this before. You, and us.”

“You have?” Anakin said.

“We have,” she confirmed. “You’re…Ani, you’re an  _ amazing _ person. You’re kind and brave--maybe sometimes a little  _ too _ brave--and beautiful and  _ brilliant. _ How could we  _ not?” _

He sat there, stunned, for a moment, with something like hope starting to kindle again behind his eyes. “But…but you two have each other, and you never  _ said _ anything…”

“We do have each other,” Obi-Wan agreed, reaching for Padme’s hand. “But that doesn’t automatically mean we have no room for you. And you are…Anakin, you are so very easy to love.”

“Oh,” Anakin breathed, and there was a whole universe in that one word.

Padme nodded, because she really couldn’t have put it any better. “As for why we didn’t say anything,” she said, “we didn’t want to take advantage.”

Anakin blinked a little, nonplussed, then looked from her to Obi-Wan and back again.

“You kept telling us you felt like you owed us, somehow,” she clarified. “For taking you and Ahsoka in.”

“And with that hanging between us…that’s a  _ terrible _ foundation for any kind of intimacy,” Obi-Wan said. “So we said nothing.”

“We didn’t want to hurt you,” Padme said. “And we could have. Very easily, and probably very badly.”

_ And maybe we did, anyway, with our silence--and for that, I am so, so sorry--but... _

“Right,” Anakin said, and then he was quiet for a minute, mulling that over, before finally nodding, slowly. “Okay. I…I think I understand.”

She relaxed a little. That was…probably the best reaction they could have hoped for. He could’ve bristled, thought they were being patronizing--but he didn’t. And now that it was all out in the open, now that  _ he _ had approached  _ them… _

She squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand briefly, and he squeezed back.

“So, as for what you said before,” Obi-Wan said. “Given…everything, as I said, if you don’t think you’re ready, if you want to take a step back, we won’t hold you to it. We can go back to the way things were.”

It wouldn’t be that simple, of course, and all three of them knew it. But if that was what Anakin wanted, if that was what would make him happy, they would damn well  _ try. _

“But if not,” Obi-Wan continued. “Padme and I would like to…we’d be interested in seeing where this might take us.”

“What Obi-Wan means to say,” Padme added, “is that we love you, too. And we want--we will do whatever makes you happy. Whether that’s taking a step forward, or taking one back.”

“I want this,” Anakin said. “Not to take it back, I mean…” He took a breath. “I love you,” he said. “I stand by that. And if you…if I’m not in the way, if you…”

“You’re not,” Obi-Wan assured him.

“Never,” Padme said, at the same time.

“Then I want this,” he said again. “I want…I want to  _ be _ with you.”

“And so you will be,” Obi-Wan said, and Padme just nodded.

And Anakin--oh, in that moment, his smile outshone the stars.

He started to get up; probably planning to cross the tiny cockpit and join them, but of  _ course _ his injured leg gave out as soon as he put any weight on it and he pitched forward.

_ “Anakin,” _ Obi-Wan said, tinged with fond exasperation, as he let go of Padme to catch their--their new partner.

Anakin just laughed, and kissed first him, then Padme; soft and warm and achingly sweet; before wrapping his arms around the two of them.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Padme honestly couldn’t have said which of them echoed him first.

And, for a moment, the three of them stood there, wrapped up in each other under the swirling stars of hyperspace.

It wouldn’t last, of course--Padme knew that. Any minute now, reality and all of its attendant responsibilities would come crashing down on them. Ahsoka would be back before too much longer to break the spell, or Satine or Bo would call with an update, or Bail would need to talk to them--and there was a ship of freed prisoners to deal with, and Obi-Wan and Anakin would have to address what Anakin had done back on the prison ship--that  _ confirmation _ of his abilities--and then all of them would face the approach to and arrival on Mandalore…

But those were all problems for the future. Right now, they had this moment; this heady joy; this island of peace where their only obligations were what they owed one another.

Everything else could wait.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Devoted [ARTWORK]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706327) by [Sweven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweven/pseuds/Sweven)




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